


White Snow: Isolation

by Vhetin1138



Series: White Snow: Year 2 [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Mandalorian, Mandalorian Culture, OCs galore, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-10 18:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 108,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20856392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vhetin1138/pseuds/Vhetin1138
Summary: An expedition of elite warriors in the equatorial jungles of Mandalore disappears without a trace. When they fail to report in, Mandalorian leader Fenn Shysa sends a recovery team to investigate the fate of the original group. Cin Vhetin volunteers for the mission, claiming he has a history with one of the missing team members. Jay also volunteers, always eager to explore new and exciting places. Famed Mandalorian warrior Vhonte Tervho and the fearsome cult leader Norac Benz, also join the search party bound for the ancient jungle known as the Werda Kurs, the Dark Forest.But the jungles of Mandalore are dark, dangerous, and full to bursting with nightmarish monsters. There are things in the trees even Mandalorians fear, beasts that hunt anything that passes into their territory and prey on local warriors without mercy. Now, trapped in the dark with miles of wilderness separating them from friendly forces, Vhetin, Jay, and their allies realize they are not alone in the ancient forests. They are being hunted by the very creatures that ambushed the patrol team, creatures the locals call the Kar'ta-Epare.The Heart-Eaters.





	1. Beasts in the Trees

_ _

_“This will be our bastion. Among these mountains and throughout these valleys, we will bleed ourselves into the earth until we cannot be parted from our home without supreme sacrifice.”_

\- Mandalore the First, upon the discovery of _Manda’yaim_

~~~~~~~~

Leafy ferns whipping against his face, arms, and torso with wet slaps as he ran through the driving rain. He squinted against the downpour, breath heaving in pained gasps, legs pumping despite feeling so weak they could give at any moment. He swerved to avoid a tree stump, but stumbled in the dark over an outstretched log and pitched face-first into a thick carpet of mud and muck. A whimper fell from his strangled throat, but he scrambled back to his feet, paying no heed to what direction he was traveling or where his path would eventually take him. He just needed to run, and run _fast_.

Thunder cracked overhead, accompanied by blazing flash of lightning that lit up the jungle around him in a momentary strobe light of brilliant clarity. He could see waving branches, undulating seas of waist-high grass, and draping vines twisting in the wind. He used another stump as a foothold, throwing himself forward and propelling himself through the foliage and into the depths of the jungle.

A deep warbling croak rang through the night, echoing off the walls of the ravine on either side of him. He could hear heavy footsteps in the treetops above, shaking the branches over his head and sending down a rain of disturbed greenery and scraps of bark. He could see eyes shining in the darkness, yellow-gold orbs peering furiously at him from the shadows of the rainforest. They were toying with him, surrounding him and watching him panic like a nexu waiting for the perfect time to strike.

_I have to get out of here_, he thought as he ran. He let out a whimper and looked over his shoulders, desperately wiping a sheet of rain and sweat from his eyes. _I have to... have to get back to the camp. Have to..._

But the further he ran, the less he believed the camp would provide shelter. The ghosts in the trees had torn through the others with ease, yanking them off into the darkness and silencing them within the shadows. Everyone else had been picked off one by one, snatched away after they stumbled or fell too far behind. Now he was the only one left, trying with all his might to make it to somewhere – _anywhere_ – out of their reach.

_Keep running_, he thought. His heart was pounding painfully hard in his chest, on the verge of climbing up into his throat and stifling his wee zing gasps completely. _Whatever happens, whatever you see... just keep running._

His foot caught an outstretched rock and he sprawled forward into the grass again, his armor now splattered with mud. He tried to rise, but slipped and splatted into the mire again, then again. He was stuck.

“Oh no,” he gasped. “Oh no, oh no, oh no!”

He scrambled forward, digging up wet fistfuls of mud as he did. Before he managed to get so much as a few feet, there was a heavy splash behind him. He flipped onto his back as quickly as he could manage in the thick silt. Through the driving rain, he could see a dark figure uncurling from its crouch, stretching up taller and taller until it towered over him. It held a heavy, angular spear in its taloned hands and blazing yellow eyes burned from within a tangled curtain of messy black hair that roiled in the wind.

It barked out something unintelligible in a deep guttural tongue and leveled the spear at him with an almost amused air. As he watched, two more identical figures dropped from the trees, hefting identical spears. They advanced on him, moving with a fluid grace that almost looked supernatural. As one coordinated motion, the heads of their spears angled down to point to his chest.

Another bark of dark, savage words. The three were looming closer and closer while he scrambled away. He finally managed to grasp hold of solid sod and hoisted himself back to his feet. He felt more than heard one of the spears whistle past him in the dark. It thudded to the ground and stuck fast in the dirt, just behind him. A second spear slashed through his shoulder, digging through skin and muscle as he turned to run. A scream tore itself from his lips and he staggered. Warm, sticky blood squelched up between the fingers he clenched over the wound.

There was another flash of lightning, a peal of thunder. He saw the grass all around him waving violently, creating an ocean of foliage that disoriented and confused him. Everywhere he looked, he thought he could see the ominous shadows that dogged him, their baleful eyes surrounding him. In a flash of lightning, however, he only saw the undulating shadows of waving fern leaves and bright yellow flowers bending in the wind.

In the next bright strobe of light, he definitely saw something moving in front of him: there was a knot of figures picking their way through the underbrush, crouched low with their heads swiveling back and forth. They were clearly on high alert, looking for something. They wouldn’t find him. He wouldn’t let them.

He put his head down and charged forward, intent on barreling through them and then running onward as fast as he could. The first figure he knocked aside with ease, shoving with all his might and sending the creature staggering. It let out a surprised shout and crashed to the ground with a wet squelch. He tried to do the same to the second figure, but suddenly a very human-sounding voice shouted, “Contact!” and a blinding explosion of blue-white light hit his chest, knocking him to the ground with a powerful numbing blast. He splashed into a deep puddle, gagging on muddy water.

“Target down!” the same voice shouted. “Human male. _Mando'ad, _Team Leader.”

Voices called through the darkened jungle. Not the throaty barking of the forest ghosts, but the irritated drawl of soldiers stuck in bad weather. A patrol group. A _Mandalorian _patrol group! He fought his way back to his feet, head spinning from adrenaline and confusion.

“Who... who are you? What are you doing here?”

One of the figures stepped forward, lowering an angular Mandalorian _beskad_ saber that had been aimed at his neck. In the dim light of the patrol group’s helmet-mounted recon lamps, he saw it was a woman in mud-spattered armor, a thick, rain-drenched poncho wrapped around her shoulders.

“It’s all right, _vod, _you’re safe. We’re Rangers,” she said with a reassuring nod and a hand on his arm, pulling him closer to the recon team where they could keep a better eye on him. Even with her helmet vocoder, she had to her voice over the tumult of the storm. “Almost mistook you for a rogue kalo wolf. What are you doing this deep in the jungle?”

“I’m a… a h-h-hunter,” he managed to gasp. He watched the other soldiers fanning out, creating a tight perimeter around him and the blue-armored woman. Like her, they were outfitted with swords and spears and shields, though a few held angular blaster rifles at the ready. All were staring at him with confusion and suspicion. “A big game hunter. My company and I w-were after rumors of rancor living in the jungles. Worth a lot of money. But… but we weren’t prepared—”

The woman laughed over a deep _crack_ of thunder. “No rancor in these trees, _vod_. Just echo snakes and kalo wolves. A Gundark or two, maybe, but no rancor. Certainly nothing worth braving this storm if you’re not under orders like us.”

“I’d take latrine duty over this shit any day,” one of the scouts called, to the shared laughter of the entire team.

“No!” the hunter cried. “No, there's... there's something else in these woods. Something _worse_.”

“Worse than echo snakes?” The woman frowned at him. “What the kriff are you on about?”

He gasped and clutched at her shoulder. “You have to listen to me! They're here!”

“Who?”

“_Kar'ta Epar'e_,” he moaned. “_Kar'ta Epar'e!”_

One of the Rangers scoffed. “The guy must be drunk if he thinks he was being chased by the Heart-Eaters.”

“Right,” another agreed. “Plenty of scary shit in this jungle without having to resort to ghost stories. _Osik_ if I’ve ever heard it.”

“It would explain why he’s out in this weather. Got ass-backwards toasted and thought the first bump in the night was a ghoul coming to get him.”

More laughter from the team.

“Quiet,” the blond woman barked, and the Rangers fell silent. She turned back to the hunter and said, “What happened to the rest of your people?”

“D-dead.”

“I figured that out while you were running through the trees like a nuna with its head cut off. _How_?”

He gulped, flinching when lightning flashed overhead again. “We were camped up on the ridge. Figured we’d have a good view of the entire valley from up there. We were sheltered by the trees, so no Shriek-Hawks could get the jump on us.”

The woman’s voice sharp, clearly irritated by too many useless details. “What happened?”

“W-we were settling down for the night,” the hunter stammered. “We hadn’t caught anything during the day. People were angry and drinking more than was smart, so I ordered that they turn in early. About halfway through the first watch, one of our men – Chatori – vanished on us. Figured he’d wandered off to take a piss, but after an hour, he didn’t show up again.”

He shivered in the cold rain. “I sent out two of the other hunters to look for him. They disappeared too.”

“You sent your men to wander through the _Werda Kurs_ in the middle of the night?” one of the Rangers growled, flexing his grip on his rifle. “Don’t need no fancy _Kar’ta Epar’e_ to pick them off. Kalo wolves or a Blackstalker hive would do the job just as efficiently.”

“He’s right,” the blond woman admitted. “This valley is full of predators more than capable of taking down a sleepy, hungover big game hunter. Hell, they could have just tripped and fallen into a sinkhole.”

“It wasn’t kalo wolves,” the hunter insisted. “And it wasn’t Blackstalkers. We know how to deal with those. We know how to be careful. We aren’t some idiot _aruetiise_ who think carting around a big gun makes them invincible.”

“And yet…” one of the Rangers muttered, shifting his spear to rest on his shoulder.

The blond woman shot him a warning stare, illuminated by another brilliant fork of lightning high above. “So three of your men went missing. Then what?”

“T-then… we got the rest of the boys up. Started fanning out, looking for them. Calling out.”

“You were shouting? You realize there’s no quicker way for an echo snake to sniff you out? Those things hunt using sound, you know.”

“We were miles from the nearest river,” the hunter snapped. “There weren’t going to be any echo snakes up on the ridge! We figured… figured maybe they had fallen asleep in the bushes somewhere. Sleeping off the booze. But then we h-heard it…”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Heard what?”

He looked up at her, his entire body shaking.

“Drums.”

As if on cue, one of the Rangers suddenly screamed amid a loud crackling of tree branches. Everyone in the clearing turned in time to see a swift thrashing in the bushes to their left. There was a sickening _crunch_ and the man fell abruptly silent.

The Ranger team exploded into sudden motion. The woman stepped away and signaled to her men with a swift cutting motion of her hand. The remaining soldiers fell into a battle-ready crouch, weapons aimed out in a rough semi-circle with the hunter at its core. The jungle around them seemed suddenly, strangely silent.

“That was Kraite,” someone called.

“The hell just happened?”

“He’s not answering his comm. His IFF just went offline as well.”

“Kraite!” the young woman called, drawing her _beskad_ and holding it with a sturdy two-handed grip. “Sound off! You trip on something?”

There was no answer but the steady pounding of the rain. Even the thunder seemed to have tapered off, as if in anticipation of what was about to happen. The young woman cursed and gestured to her men.

“Fan out!” she called. “We’re short-staffed as it is. Find him!”

“No!” the hunter shouted, clutching at her shoulder pad. “No, that's just what they want you to do!”

She snorted. “What, you think it’s more _Kar’ta Epar’e_?”

“Yes! This is just what happened last time!”

The woman shook him off. “Just stay back. Whatever happened to Kraite, it wasn't mythical jungle monsters. Probably bandits, trying to get the jump on us. For all I know, you’re the distraction.”

The Rangers slowly started moving through the tall grass, weapons at the ready. The hunter cowered in the center of their search ring, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds and whimpering every time he heard a branch creak or a distant bird call. Whatever had taken the first Ranger seemed to have fallen back, as the jungle around them was suddenly as empty as could be. Even the storm seemed to have died down, as if the entire jungle was holding its breath in anticipation.

“Kraite? Kraite!”

“It's like he disappeared.”

“Where the kriff-”

Another scream, abruptly cut off like before. The remaining Rangers spun and found another of their teammates gone. A wide-leafed fern whipped in the jungle wind, and the soldiers’ dancing illuminator beams picked out the clear splash of crimson blood that painted the foliage. There was no other signs a man had stood there only seconds before.

The blue-armored woman cursed and said, “All right, new plan! Back-to-back! Make sure-”

Another scream, then another. The branches above their heads suddenly erupted into sound, the leaves thrashing as the air was suddenly split with heavy, thudding drumbeats. They pounded through the night air like the heartbeat of some gigantic jungle beast, drowning out even the thunder as the clamor was joined by the hooting and howling of the jungle ghosts.

“The drums,” the hunter moaned, covering his ears. “It’s the _drums_!”

More screams. The hunter could see dark figures leaping down from the canopy, seemingly melting out of the darkness as they tackled the Rangers and then leaped back up into shadow, carrying the screaming soldiers with them. The woman pivoted back and forth, firing her heavy blaster pistol at any shadowy figure that presented itself. The figures were illuminated in quick scarlet strobes by her blaster fire, but moved too quickly to see clearly, and far too quickly to hit.

She cursed and tossed her weapon into the muck as soon as it clicked empty, knowing she had no time to reload. Instead, she drew her _beskad _sword from the scabbard on her hip as the drumbeats got louder and louder and-

And suddenly everything was silent and still. The woman was alone, save for the hunter still cowering against a tree trunk some distance away. She backed up with cautious footsteps, sword blade aimed up into the branches above her that had swallowed her teammates within the blink of an eye. Together, the survivors listened to the wind whistling through the jungle all around. She wiped the rain off her visor and panted, “Kriff. This isn't good. This isn’t good.”

She looked to him, as if remembering his presence for the first time since the attack began, and waved with quick, frantic gestures. Her voice was tight with fear when she hissed, “Get over here! Back to back, before it happens again!”

Shook his head just as vehemently. “No! I’ve gotta get out of here!”

“We have to form a two-way wall,” she said, tossing him a sword that had come clattering down from the trees in the commotion. He caught it awkwardly, his shaking hands almost tossing it back into the mud into which it had been snatched. The hilt was wrapped with leather and emblazoned with the Ranger insignia; a blade from one of the woman’s fallen comrades.

“Whatever's out here is trying to surround us!” she snapped. “If you want to make it out of here alive, stay close to me.”

He shook his head, backing against a tree and throwing the sword aside. A tearful whimper escaped as he looked around and saw shadowy figures slithering down from the canopy once more, silently surrounding the woman in an ever-tightening circle. She was cut off, without support, and surrounded. This was a losing battle if he’d ever seen one.

He pressed himself to the trunk behind him, squeezing his eyes shut as one of the figures passed by. He heard deep, rumbling breath, then heavy, thudding footsteps as whatever it was made its way to the last remaining Ranger. All eyes were fixated on her now.

She cursed and drew a second pistol from her belt, opening fire at the nearest shadow looming over her. The blaster bolt pinged off of something metallic, the flash of light and spray of sparks illuminating gray, corpse-like skin and yellowed eyes that stared too-wide at the prey before them. The woman swiveled and fired at another, sword held aloft in her other hand, but no matter how many shots she loosed they had no effect.

When her weapon clicked empty, she shouted a curse and threw the blaster into the grass with its sister. Her freed hand came up to her helmet’s comm unit as she dialed out for help. “This is Ranger-Scout Tamai Vasser, calling for immediate reinforcements! Coordinates are thirty-two-twenty delta quadrant by six-”

She slashed at one of the figures that drew a little too close. It leaped back in a fluid, snake-like motion, clenching taloned fists before silently approaching again.

“Damn it,” she muttered, her voice tainted with real fear now. “I’m surrounded, in need of immediate reinforcements! I don’t think… I don’t think I’m—”

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated one of the dark figures towering over her. She spun back and raised her sword to strike, but a clawed hand yanked the weapon away with effortless ease, tossing it into the underbrush. She craned her neck up to stare into the blazing yellow eyes and simply stood, terrified and defeated, while the creature reared back and raised a long, taloned hand.

The hunter didn't stick around to see what was going to happen. He turned and took off again, sprinting off into the jungle before anyone saw him. Seconds later, he heard the woman scream. And then, just like all the others, she fell abruptly silent.

From then on, all that could be heard were the sounds of the storm.


	2. Familiar Territory

**Keldabe, Mandalore (six months after the Caranthyr bombings)**

“Get down!”

“Contact left! Contact left!”

“On your six!”

“I’m on her.”

Cin Vhetin vaulted over a half-wall and slid into cover behind an overturned table, tucking his rifle close to his chest and grimacing against a sudden spray of blaster fire. He somersaulted to one side as the multicolored bolts bit chunks out of his hiding place and fired until his weapon clicked empty. He ejected the magazine and fed a fresh one into its housing, listening as blasterfire chipped away at the tabletop behind him.

“Sound off!” he shouted.

His comm crackled to life with an incoming transmission from his partner. “_I’m holding my own. Barely._”

“Do you have eyes on target?”

“_No! I can’t see her! Wherever she’s firing from, it’s got damn good cover.”_

He cursed and shot again toward the origin of the incoming fire. Chunks of a tall brick barrier exploded into superheated chips and he saw someone dart away down the hall, cursing the spray of debris. He threw himself back into the field and rushed forward, taking advantage of the lull.

“We’re clear,” he said after a cursory examination. His target had holed up in a small side-room with good sight lines on either end of the apartment. “She’s falling back for now. Any ideas?”

“_She wasn’t supposed to react like this! This was supposed to be an easy mission!”_

He scowled. “Obviously we were misinformed. You’re really surprised?”

“_So what’s the plan?_”

“Regroup,” he said, straightening and tucking his rifle more securely into the cup of his shoulder. “Get to my position. We’ll go at this together and clear the apartment room by room. If she shows, we’ll overpower her and take her in.”

“_Two blasters are better than one,_” Jay said. “_I get it. What’s your location?_”

“In the main den,” he reported, taking in the messy living room and overturned couch. The various junk strewn across the floor made steady footing hard to find and made moving quietly almost impossible. His heavy combat boots crushed a discarded can with a loud crackle, making him wince and pick up his pace. Pressing himself against the corner his attacker had just deserted, he took a moment to boot up his motion tracker to sweep for contacts.

There was a single unidentified figure drawing near his location with purpose. He tightened his grip on his weapon and prepared to spring into action. His eyes narrowed and his HUD glow shifted from amber to bloody scarlet as his helmet’s tactical systems engaged, ready for a fight.

_Why did I let them talk me into this? _he thought. _This was a bad idea._

But he didn’t have time to worry about that. The target was here and was very heartily resisting arrest. That made his job easy: find her, subdue her, and claim the reward.

The contact finally drew close enough to attack and he threw himself around the corner, lashing out with his foot and catching the approaching woman in the chest. His blow knocked her against the wall with a crash and she crumpled to the floor. He pinned her there with his boot and aimed his rifle squrely at her head.

The woman quickly raised a hand and cried, “Wait! Kriff, it’s me! Friendly! _Friendly_!”

He instantly lowered his rifle, HUD falling back to its usual pale orange glow. His motion tracker updated the contact with a pulsing green diamond; a friendly indeed.

“_Shab_, Jay.” He offered her a hand, which she pointedly refused. “I’m sorry. Are you all right?”

His partner clambered back to her feet, brushing off her jacket with a disgruntled huff. She glared at him and said, “You need to be a little more careful. Much more of that and I may just start shooting at you too.”

“Sorry,” he said. “You just took me by surprise.”

“Once upon a time, you said that wasn’t possible,” she said, raising an eyebrow. A small smile tugging at her lips belied her irritated tone.

“Joke later,” he said. He scooped up her pistol and handed it back to her, butt first. “We’ve got a contract to complete and I don’t intend to let her go.”

She accepted the weapon and checked the charge, falling into place at his shoulder and ready to move into the rest of the complex. He shouldered his rifle and said, “Stay close. We’re going to sweep and clear the area room by room, just like the contract on Ord Mantell.”

“You do remember we were both shot on that contract, right?”

“But we brought in the bounty.”

“We were _shot_.”

“But we _brought in the bounty_.” He scowled behind his helmet. “That’s all that matters.”

She sighed and followed at his side as they moved into the adjoining hallway. She moved with him as smooth as a predator stalking its prey, watching his back while he cleared the tiny, cramped, and messy rooms on either side of the hall. “I feel bad about that contract. It was too soon after you got out of the medcenter to send you into the field again. You weren’t ready.”

He narrowed his eyes as they cleared a nearby bathroom. They’d had this conversation before, and he had no intention of revisiting it again — especially not here. “It all worked out, so I don’t know what your problem is.”

“None, I guess,” she sighed. Then she cleared her throat and said, “Tracker show anything?”

His motion tracker was still as they continued down the hall. Their target had obviously hunkered down, waiting for them and maybe even laying a trap. He tightened his grip on his rifle and said, “Stay tight. She’s setting up her endgame.”

“You can tell?”

He nodded to the end of the hall. “Dead-end that way. She’s got nowhere to go and she knows it.”

“Where do you need me?”

He took a cautious step forward. “Watching my six. If she pulls something on me, you’ll be in a prime position to take her out. If she shows, rush her. Get her on the floor however you can.”

“She’s wearing armor, remember? She’s a little more dangerous than I am. Not to mention heavier.”

Another step. “Just follow my lead.”

He craned his neck, trying to see into the room at the end of the hall as best he could. “Can you hear me in there?”

“_Go kriff yourself_!” came the predictable response.

He shook his head. “You have nowhere to go! Just surrender peacefully and we can all get out of here in one piece.”

Jay snorted. “You’ve met this woman, right? She’s not going to surrender, peacefully or otherwise.”

He ignored her. “You’re trapped in there. Nowhere to go. This is over and you know it.”

“_It’s over when you get your _shebs_ in here and end it!_”

Vhetin cursed and took another step forward. He crossed over the threshold to the final room, wary for movement. “Kriff I hate hunting down other Mandos.”

“This was _your_ idea,” Jay said. “Just because- watch out!”

Too late. He wasn’t quick enough to dodge a large plank of wood as it swung sideways and smashed into his faceplate. The impact shattered the wood and sent him crashing to the ground. While he was still shaking off the effects, he saw Jay obediently leap into action and tackle his attacker around the waist. The attack wasn’t enough to bring the armored woman to the ground, but it did make her stagger back a few steps.

Vhetin scrambled back to his feet just as the woman slammed her elbow hard into Jay’s back, making his partner cry out and lose her grip. The woman followed up with a boot to the chest that sent Jay staggering against the wall.

Vhetin took three steps forward and grabbed the woman by the throat. With a grunt, he hoisted her off her feet, then pivoted and slammed her down to the ground, crashing through a heavy wooden table in the process. Her helmet came unsealed, bouncing away across the floor. Once done, he planted a boot on her chest, pinning her there, and leveled his rifle at her.

“Yield,” he said.

“K-kriff yourself.”

He leaned down, putting more pressure on her chest. She coughed and tried to wriggle free, but he kept her pinned against the ground. “I’m not playing with you, Janada. Give yourself up peacefully so we don’t have to get _really _rough.”

“A Mandalorian _never _surrenders or-“

He fired a single shot into the floor right next to her head, close enough to make her curse and cover her ears. Jay stepped up next to his shoulder and aimed her pistol at the woman as well.

“Don’t make us stun you again,” she said. “Give it up.”

“You’re persistent bastards,” Janada growled, “But-”

Vhetin glanced at Jay, who shrugged and said, “She asked for it.”

He nodded, then raised his rifle and fired a stun round point-blank into Janada’s chest. The woman let out a curse and sputtered as electricity raced through her system, enveloping her body in blue-white rings of lightning. She spasmed for a few moments then fell still, panting hard. She scowled at them, then nodded and muttered, “Fine… I yield.”

Jay instantly lowered her pistol, a grin stretching across her face as she punched a fist in the air. “_Hoo-ah_! That’s another win for us!”

Vhetin’s face broke into a grin and he removed his boot from his sister’s chest, then reached down and offered her a hand up. She grudgingly took it and let him haul her back to her feet.

“What was the time?” Jay called over her shoulder.

There was a rumble, then a mechanized door in the center of one wall slid open to allow a red-suited MandalMotors technician entrance to the room. He was holding a datapad in his gloved hands and had a wide grin on his face.

“Five minutes even,” he said. “A new floor record. Nice work you two.”

Jay punched her fist in satisfaction, then turned and motioned for Vhetin to give her an enthusiastic high-five. He responded with a chuckle. “Good job, Jay.”

“Same to you, big guy. We’ve still got it!”

Janada brushed wood chips from her armor and muttered, “Psh, as if. I would have had you if-“

“If you hadn’t boxed yourself in like a caged nuna?” Vhetin finished. “Yeah, probably. Lucky for us you didn’t.”

“So?” his sister pressed. “What’d you think of the new environmental training sims? They ready to hit the military facilities?”

“I’d say so,” Jay said. “They felt remarkably realistic. Almost like being on a real hunt.”

“Almost,” Vhetin repeated.

The engineer nodded, the signaled for the tech to get moving. “That’s our seal of approval, _vod_! Go tell Ume’o that the training sims have been vetted by our _beroya _friends here and they’re good to go.”

The tech nodded and hurried out of the room while Janada turned back to the table. She bent down and tapped a few commands into a tiny circular device lying on the floor amid a mess of splintered table and wood chips. With a sizzle and a flicker of light, the cramped and messy room vanished as the holoprojector shut down. In its place was a series of rooms with plain, slate-gray duracrete walls and floors.

Janada scooped up the device, then turned to Vhetin with a scowl. “Did you really have to drop me on top of this thing? These sim projectors are kriffing expensive, you know.”

Vhetin grinned behind his helmet. “I know. But what use are they if they don’t hold up under a hundred-some pounds of armored Mandalorian? MandalMotors doesn’t have a reputation of manufacturing fragile toys.”

“You’ve got a point, I guess,” she grumbled. She handed the holoprojector to another waiting technician. She then scooped up her helmet, rubbing her neck. “Nice finale, by the way. Good to see you’ve got your creepy super strength back.”

“It doesn’t take someone with super strength to pick you up, Jan. You’re so tiny, almost anyone could do it.”

The short woman punched his arm good-naturedly and said, “Meeting up at the _Oyu’baat _later?”

“Actually, I can’t,” Vhetin replied, checking his chronometer. “I’m late already.”

“Late for what? You’re not going out with Vachiira again, are you? I thought you broke that off months ago.”

“Nothing like that. But I’ve got training with the Handmaiden. And she’ll rip me a new one when she finds out I’m late.”

“Go then,” Jay said, shoving his back. “I’ll keep your sister under control.”

“You sure you’re up to it? She can be a bit of a handful. The last babysitter I got her ended up in jail with a nice cozy cell right next to hers.”

“Ha-ha, _vod,_” Janada said, throwing him a glare and an exceedingly rude hand gesture. “Just get going before that Echani decides to murder you in your sleep.”

He set off toward the exit, giving one last farewell before the two women disappeared from sight.


	3. Training with Les

**Vhetin's Bastion, Kelita Forest**

"Form one."

_Thwack, thwack, thwack!_

"Form two."

_Thwack thwack, thwack!_

"Form one."

Vhetin backpedaled frantically, trying to twist his sparring quarterstaff up to block the Handmaiden's ruthless advance. He managed to turn her staff away, but she just kept coming.

"Form five," she said calmly, then lashed out with a blinding series of attacks, all aimed at his head, arms, or legs. He managed to parry three of them, but the next connected painfully with his shin with a loud _crack_. He let out a grunt and hopped away, holding out his hand to signal her to hold off.

She didn't listen. She stepped forward and continued her assault: a blow to the ribs, neck, and knee, so fast he could barely see them. As he staggered away, overwhelmed by the flurry of blows, she hooked her staff beam around his uninjured ankle, pulled hard and sent him crashing onto his back. She followed up with a downward slash that hit him hard in the chest, making him double up in pain.

A bare foot pinned his wrist, trapping him against the forest floor. Her knee landed hard on his chest and she brought the beam of her staff up to press hard into the hollow at the base of his throat. Her ice-blue eyes were narrowed to little more than furious slits.

"Do you yield?"

"Holy _osik_, woman!" he gasped, clutching his chest. "What are you—"

"Do you _yield_?" she pressed, digging her weapon deeper into his throat.

"Yes!" he choked. "All right, all right."

In an instant she was off of him, stepping away and lowering her quarterstaff. He was left to lay on his back, fighting to catch his breath after her merciless assault. Every muscle in his body ached and he was already forming new bruises to compliment his old ones.

"Did… did I do something wrong?" he panted, rolling onto his stomach with a groan. "You seem a little more… _energetic_… than usual."

"You were late."

He sighed and fought to rise to his hands and knees. He held a hand to his ribs. "Yeah… I told you that."

"It is unacceptable."

"I was training with Jay and lost track of time!"

"So training with your partner takes precedence over training with me?"

"Don't do this, Handmaiden," he sighed, finally rising to his feet. "I've been training with you for months now. Never once have I been late. I slip up once and you decide to wipe the forest floor with me? How is that fair?"

She spun her staff up into a combat-ready stance. He quickly mirrored it as she growled, "An Echani's life is one of _precision_. Of meticulous attention to detail. And yet you cannot even keep your attention on the passage of time?"

Her lips tightened and she snapped, "Form three."

_Thwack, thwack, thwack._

He grimaced as he parried all her blows. "I'll do better. If this is the way you're going to react –"

She thrust her staff forward and caught him in the solar plexus, making him double-over. "An Echani does not make promises of what she _will_ do. She leads by _action_!"

She brought her staff beam up and caught him in the chin, sending him staggering away. His quarterstaff fell from his grasp as he clutched at his face.

"She leads by _example_!" the Handmaiden continued, hitting him with a spinning kick to the gut that doubled him over again.

She threw herself into a graceful pirouette, then slammed her quarterstaff down across the back of his neck. He collapsed to the forest floor again, letting out a groan. Her quarterstaff beam descended again, pressing into the nape of his neck.

"Mandalorians," she hissed, "may be a collection of lawless, thieving mercenaries, but I can assure you the Echani treat promises with more respect. Do you yield?"

He sighed and nodded. As soon as he did, she stepped back and allowed him to clamber to his feet again. He leaned heavily on his sparring staff, staring at her through narrowed eyes.

"I get the feeling… you're upset about more than just me being late."

She shook her head. "It is none of your concern."

He gestured to the bruises now scattered across his bare chest and shoulders. "I think it's kind of my concern. It's certainly not contributing to my training."

She seemed to debate with herself for a time. Then she sighed and lowered her staff. "Take a water break. Five minutes. We can… talk."

He nodded in relief, sheathing the twin quarterstaff beams. He followed her, limping slightly, as they moved back toward the tree stump they had used as a meeting place. Resting on top of the stump was a crate full of cooled ice water; a necessity for training sessions in the sweltering summer heat. The Handmaiden's pristine white robes and Vhetin's black-gray armor were also resting on the stump; they had removed them to prepare for sparing. Echani tradition dictated that trainees sparred in their underclothes. It was an odd tradition, but one that Vhetin had – with difficulty – long since gotten used to. The Handmaiden's training regimen quickly had him focusing on more important matters than personal embarrassment.

He cracked the lid on one water container and downed half of it in one go. The Handmaiden watched him in silence, only sipping at her own drink.

"So…" he finally said, sitting down on the edge of the stump. "What's wrong?"

She hesitated, then sat on the other side of the stump. "I received information this morning. A bulletin that was released over the Imperial HoloNet News."

"I didn't know you kept up with current events."

"I do when the news involves the Empire slaughtering my people."

He instantly fell still. "Something happened?"

She nodded, pursing her lips. "The Empire raided an Echani village on my homeworld two days ago. They claim the warriors there were harboring terrorists, smuggling weapons and materiel to oppose Imperial control. They sent stormtroopers to pacify the village. The local Echani, the Taori clan… did not react well in the face of such intrusion."

"Did you know this clan?"

"In passing," she said. "The Taori were well-respected for their prowess in battle. But their warriors did not look kindly upon the Imperials who shackled them."

"Imperials maintain a presence on Eshan?"

"Eshan was forcibly conscripted into the Empire at the conclusion of the Clone Wars," the Handmaiden explained. "Imperial rule is enforced by a series of outposts built in the ruins of ancient Echani fortresses across the planet. In the past, those fortresses were occupied by our warriors."

She looked over at him. "The plight of Eshan is not dissimilar to that of Mandalore; the Imperials wish to rule, and the people wish to remain independent. The Echani have the training and the will to repel them, but lack the weaponry and the numbers. As a result, my people are subjugated against their will. As the Taori were."

She stared at her bare feet and murmured, "It is not known who instigated conflict. It could have been the stormtroopers. It could have been the Echani. But my people do not wear heavy battle armor. In such large numbers, clustered tight together with no room to maneuver, they were no match for the Imperial soldiers and their guns."

She closed her eyes. "They were murdered. Butchered, from the highest Battlemaster to the lowliest Handmaiden. Two hundred staves cut down in a matter of minutes."

He stared at her. "I'm… I'm sorry."

"Why would you be?" she spat. "You did not know them. You have never seen Eshan."

"No," he admitted. "But I can understand how you feel. I wouldn't want a clan of Mandalorians to be killed by Imperials."

"No one would with to see the slaughter of their brethren. But the Taori… were headstrong. They should not have resisted."

"What, so they should have let the Imperials walk over them like a doormat?"

"Perhaps," the Handmaiden murmured. "Is it better to be subjugated and alive? Or defiant and dead?"

"I'd rather be defiant and sacrifice myself to stop something like that," Vhetin said. "I'd rather be the one to affect change. To inspire others to stand up to injustice. A living person can be discredited or locked up, but someone who is killed defending what they love becomes a symbol for other like-minded individuals. Perhaps, in standing up to the Imperials, the Taori did just that."

The Handmaiden shook her head. "Such beliefs bring no comfort to them."

"No," he said. "But they might bring comfort to you."

She didn't respond, staring off into the forest. Vhetin waited, listening to birds calling and leaves rustling in the breeze over their heads. He took another long swig of cool water, trying to ignore the throbbing of his new bruises.

"Why are you being so kind to me?"

"What?"

The Handmaiden cocked her head, looking more quizzical than angry. "Why do you treat me with such kindness? I have done nothing to earn your respect. I have not shown you kindness in return. Normally I would suspect you harbored romantic feelings toward me, but you have made no advances and have acknowledged that I show no attraction toward males. It must be something else."

She narrowed her eyes. "So why? Why treat me – an Echani, a rival to your own culture – with such respect?"

He pondered over this for a time, rubbing his chin. "I honestly don't know. I guess… we Mandalorians have a saying: _Solus choruk nu draar gotal'ur te cerar_."

"And what does that mean?"

"_A single stone does not make the mountain_. It means that while we may have opinions about something big, like the Echani, it's usually made up of lots of smaller, unique things. That's harder to hate."

He shrugged. "I don't like the Echani. I respect them, but I don't like them. In the past, I've found them to be arrogant and derisive, with a superiority complex that rivals the worst Mandalorian supremacist. You show reflections of that in your own actions, but you're also different. You're intelligent and passionate and driven. _Those_ qualities I can respect. Therefore I can be kind to you, even if I don't show that same kindness to the Echani at large."

She stared at him, as if debating with herself whether he was lying. Then she bowed her head and said, "I… I am humbled by your words, Mandalorian. I would not have thought your people capable of such compassion."

"Yeah, well… try not to go spreading it around. I've got a reputation to maintain, you know."

She let out a very slight laugh, then rested back against the tree stump. "As much as it pains me to say it, we are more alike than either of us wish to think, Mandalorian."

"Oh? How so?"

"We are both raised from proud warrior traditions, striving to maintain our dignity and honor in a galaxy of degenerates and liars, yet we both believe our own upbringing to be superior to the other. However, despite our differences I believe that we both hope the other will prove worthy of our trust. I was willing to train you because I had hoped you would show me that Mandalorians are not the brutes that I have built them up to be. And you asked to be trained so that you could potentially find something of my culture worth following, something to guide you from this dark time in your life."

"Who says the times are dark?"

"Your façade of optimism does you no credit." She hesitated. "We have both led problematic lives, Mandalorian. You were subjected to torturous biological experimentation in which the Imperials attempted to rip from you all that made you unique. And I…"

She trailed off, pursing her lips. "I was similarly bereft of that which I loved. I wear my mark of shame to this day."

"I assume you're talking about the black marks on your armor," he said, nodding to the Echani's neatly folded battlesuit on the trunk next to her. The suit was made of soft white cloth, layered over with sections of hard black protective leather. She had explained on occasion before that the color black was a symbol of dishonor among her people. What she had done to deserve such dishonor, he had never asked. Now, however, he wanted to know more. "What happened?"

She shook her head. "I was young. Selfish. Afraid. There… there is not much else to tell."

"Regardless," he said. "I'd like to hear it."

She stared at the forest floor, unmoving, for a long time. Then she took a deep breath and began to speak.

"I was serving with the Royal Echani Army – or what remains of it after the Imperials took my planet by force. I was First Handmaiden to a highly respected Echani Battlemaster. It was a very prestigious position, even though I served only as a squire. I was proud."

She sighed. "We were deployed on Pols Four, a tundra planet not unlike Eshan. We were fighting a mercenary band that was encroaching on Echani space and hoping to set up criminal ties in the surrounding systems. They were… stronger than our Battlemasters had anticipated. During the battle, my master was cut down. She ordered me into the fray to take vengeance for her death, even though our unit was taking heavy casualties."

She trailed off again, and only began speaking when Vhetin spoke up. "What did you do?"

"I must admit… my faith in my people had been shaken. Not long before the battle, a separate conflict had taken the life of my lover, Jeneria Tanos. The Echani were driven back from the center of the fighting, and we… we were forced to leave Jeneria and many others behind. They did not survive."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"On Pols Four," she continued, "I saw the same thing happening again. My master was mortally wounded, my fellow Handmaidens were dying all around me. And I… I panicked. I did not want to see a repeat of Jeneria's loss. I could not live with that kind of pain."

She sighed and clasped her hands tightly in her lap. "So I ran. As far and as fast as I could from that battle. I abandoned my master, abandoned my people, and openly brought dishonor upon myself and my family."

She shrugged, rubbing at the back of her neck. "I received reports later that the mercenary group wiped out my company of the Royal Army. My master, my friends and colleagues… all dead. I was listed among the dead, but it was not true. I had tried to escape the planet, but was captured by mercenary scouts. They… they did what they pleased with me. Then sold me into slavery."

_"Shab_…" he murmured. "That's awful."

She narrowed her eyes. "As I said, we both have seen the worst this galaxy has to offer us. But I believe that, with time, even these atrocities become only fading nightmares, soon forgotten."

He stared at the ground. "Nightmares can be bad enough."

She sipped at her water, all too eager to move on from her revelations of her past. "You speak of your troublesome dreams. They are growing worse?"

He nodded. Ever since returning to Mandalore, he'd struggled with psychometric relapses during the night; nightmares in which his abilities fed on his own memories, often making him relive the worst moments he could still remember, as well as those memories he had already "read" using his power. Psychometry was harmless enough when he was just observing the history of an object via touch, but powerfully negative memories could be painful or even fatal if trapped there long enough.

"The same dream?"

He nodded again. "When I was younger, I was in an accident. For some reason, the ship I was in had an equipment malfunction and crashed. I was almost killed. Rame and the others saved me."

"Hence the scars you bear upon your chest and back."

He nodded. He was nervous revealing this much about his history, but it was still vague enough that he felt he could speak about it. He'd learned his lesson about keeping secrets from his friends; Jay had almost shot him when she had learned he'd been keeping information from her for almost the entire first year they'd worked together. And the Handmaiden – though she didn't quite qualify as a friend yet – had a vested interest in his well-being; he couldn't effectively train if he was exhausted and on the verge of insanity.

"Every time I try to sleep," he said, "I always find myself back in that ship. The wind roaring around me, people screaming, metal tearing…"

He closed his eyes as a painful throb in his forehead met his words. He felt his fingertips begin to tingle, a sure sign that he was beginning to slip into a psychometric trance. He shook his head, as if he could simply shake painful pulsing away. When he looked over, he saw the Handmaiden staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"What? You have a thought?"

"I believe you return to this dream time and again for a reason," she said. "There is obviously something within you that you have yet to discover, some secret your subconscious is attempting to bring to light. I would suggest you not struggle against these dreams, but embrace them and attempt to uncover the message they are attempting to impart."

He shook his head. "Thanks, but no thanks. I just want to forget that the accident ever happened. Whatever is going on inside my head, it's just caused by stress and chemicals. It'll pass. Eventually."

She smiled a little as she set aside her drink. "The Force works in mysterious ways, Mandalorian. You would be wise to heed its will."

He scoffed. "You believe in the Force now?"

She stood and led him back to the training area, scooping up her quarterstaff as she went. "Of course. Echani are taught to thrive on observation and interpretation. And it does not take a mastermind to see that Jedi powers were no parlor trick. They wielded true power. That power had to come from _somewhere_."

"Jedi powers are one thing," he said. "A mystical energy field that directs our actions and has a plan for every being in the universe is entirely different."

"You do not think it is possible?"

He sighed, staring at the ground as he followed her. "I… don't know."

"Well then," she said, "perhaps it is merely a matter of faith."

She then spun on him, extending her quarterstaff and pointing one end at his chest. His own weapon snapped up, ready to deflect an incoming blow.

"Form three," she said. "Now!"

_Thwack, thwack, thwack.!_


	4. Girls Night Out

**_Oyu'baat _Tapcaf, later that night**

"So then I pull out my gun," Janada managed to choke out, "and he goes, _I've got a bad feeling about this_…"

Jay groaned, stifling a laugh of her own. "Why do they _always_ say that?"

"… and before he can so much as blink, he's buried under a half-ton of bantha poodoo!" Janada roared with laughter, slapping her thigh plate. "Oh, it took _weeks_ to get the smell out of his armor."

Verdo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "In my defense…"

"You had no defense," Mia chuckled. "You were a wet-behind-the-ears bounty hunter with a gun and a big mouth. It was just rookie's nerves."

"Anyway," Janada said after downing a sizable gulp of her _net'ra gal_, "that was the first and _last _time Verdo and I helped Cin out with a bounty contract. Man, you could almost see the steam coming off of Stripes' helmet, he was so mad."

Verdo sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Why are we only telling stories about me? Why don't we go back to some of Janada's funnier moments in jail? Or that time Brianna was mistaken for a Nar Shadda prostitute?"

"Because," Janada said, slinging her arm around her boyfriend's shoulders, "you were the one who had the bright idea to crash our little girl's night out. Now you have to suffer the consequences."

"Consider them suffered," Verdo said. The green-armored Mandalorian shook his shaggy black hair from his face and said, "Can I leave now?"

"Only after you buy us another round," Jay said. "Aramis! More beverages!"

The bartender obediently delivered them another tray of drinks, growling, "You ladies seem to be in a particularly fine mood. What's the occasion?"

"Jay here," Mia said, putting a hand on the young woman's shoulder, "just brought in her twentieth bounty."

"The Terrible Twenty?" Aramis said. "_Jate'bora, vod_. Seems our little _aruetii_'s all grown up now."

Jay hadn't known until she and Vhetin had returned that among Mandalorians, bounty hunters were only considered "official" after they had brought in twenty targets. But now that she had been congratulated by virtually every hunter she knew (including the ever-stoic Handmaiden) she was feeling much happier about the previously-unknown achievement.

With her newfound fame as a recipient of the prestigious Jaig eyes award, Jay was quickly gaining fame among the Keldabe Mandalorians. Her public recognition for her part in stopping the Caranthyr bombings was still only a small sidenote in the grand scheme of things, but the Mandos knew she had gained their respect.

It felt somehow freeing, to be treated as a near-equal to such renowned warriors. She had spent the last year ducking from Imperials and bounty hunters alike, never quite knowing if the more fanatical Mandalorians would respect her status or turn her over to the Imperials for a hefty profit. Now though, she knew that her friends and fellow hunters would stand by her to the death to defend her.

Aramis set down their drinks before retreating back to his place at the bar. Janada reluctantly let Verdo slink off to the restroom, more focused on her drink to argue with him. After she had grimaced at the bitter taste of the beverage, she turned her gaze to Jay and said, "So… how did Cin do on the contract?"

Jay frowned. "Not as well as he would have liked, I think. The target put up a fight. Drew a gun, started shooting from down an alleyway. Cin took two bolts to the shoulder and I took one to the forearm."

"And you're sure you're all right?" Mia quickly asked. "Rame could still take a look at the two of you."

She shook the woman off. "I'm fine, thanks. We both are. I think Cin's frustrated more than anything. These past few months off haven't exactly kept his skills sharp, and that pneumonia virus he was infected with is messing with his instincts even more. It doesn't take a genius to see that pisses him off."

Mia shook her head. "Poor Cin. That job is his life. I can't imagine what he would do if he couldn't hunt anymore."

"It's not like he's crippled," Janada chipped in. "I mean, yeah he's a little rusty, but he's still far from the worst hunter out there."

"But that's the problem," Jay said. "He doesn't want to admit to himself that he's struggling. He wants to go on pretending nothing's wrong. And _that_ kind of behavior will get him killed."

"It may get you both killed," Verdo said, sliding back into his chair after returning from the rest room. He folded his hands on the tabletop and fixed Jay with a sympathetic look. "So what do you plan to do?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure. Taking _more_ time off sure isn't going to help. And sending him back out there is just upping the chances for something to go wrong."

"Between his training with the Echani and the simulation testing up at MandalMotors," Janada said, her voice echoing slightly as she raised her mug to her lips, "he should have plenty to keep him occupied for now at least."

"Yeah. It might just give me time to pull something up. Maybe a nice, calm contract. I thought I heard something about a bail jumper on Naboo that looked promising."

Mia smiled. "Make sure to extend an offer to Brianna, then. She's always wanted to go to Naboo and try out some painting there. Apparently the lake country is beautiful this time of year."

"And how is our resident artist?" Janada asked. "I heard she managed to patch things up with Stripes after all."

"As best as they can be patched, I think," Mia replied. "I haven't really heard from her."

"Neither have I," Jay said. "She's been keeping to herself lately."

"I've seen her talking with Cin more," Verdo chipped in. "On occasion. They seem to be able to talk to each other without shouting now, which is an improvement. But I don't think they're going to be getting back together anytime soon."

"Pity," Janada said, staring into her mug. "Might do Stripes some good to get laid."

"Janada!" Mia gasped.

"What? I know that's what you were all thinkin'."

"I am nowhere near drunk enough for that kind of talk," Jay said, sipping at her drink.

Mia just glared at the engineer, as if daring her to continue. Janada glowered at her but fell silent, busying herself with her _gal_.

The bell over the door let out a chime as a tight knot of Mandalorians entered, talking and laughing raucously. Jay's heart sunk as she saw an all-too-familiar man among them, with black-red battle armor cut at the shoulders to reveal his muscled arms. His long black hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, revealing the twisted and sharp-edged tattoo stretching along his neck.

"Uh-oh," she murmured, nodding toward the group. "_Di'kut_ alert."

Mia sighed. "Must be Galaar's new hunting friends. I heard he was forming a team to head out on a contract."

Janada glanced over her shoulder, then her face drew down in a furious scowl. She cupped her mug of _gal_ between her hands and muttered, "If it were up to me, assholes like them wouldn't be allowed in here."

"The _Oyu'baat_ is neutral territory," Jay pointed out. "Aramis doesn't turn away anyone as long as they behave themselves."

"And if he wants to serve Mandalorian brew to Imperial tin cans," Janada said, "I'm fine with that. But catering to bastards who don't know the first thing about being Mandalorian is another matter entirely."

"Now Janada," Mia said in a calm and soothing voice, "you know Galaar and his friends are just as dedicated to the Supercommando Codex as you are. The fact that you two don't like each other doesn't change that."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a kriffing child, Mia. I know what I'm talking about. Galaar's just a half-step above Caranthyr in my books."

"Really?" Verdo said, raising an eyebrow. "The local bully is only a half-step above a wanted terrorist and mass murderer?"

Janada nodded, hunched low over her mug. "Caranthyr was a monster, but at least he's gone. Snake is still front and center, sticking his stupid fat nose in everyone's affairs."

"Brianna sees something in him," Jay said. "I don't know what, but she sees _something_."

"It's certainly not his people skills," Verdo said, nodding toward the bar. Snake and his friends had taken up several seats next to another group of Mandalorians, Aramis brought them their drinks and warned them to quiet down, but Snake and his buddies just laughed him off. Snake's group began heckling the others, shoving their shoulders and laughing in their faces. They seemed to be focusing mostly on the non-human Mandos in the group: an insectoid Verpine, a catlike Togorian, and a heavily-muscled Trandoshan.

"Uh-oh," Janada said, hiding a grin. "He's stepped in it now. Those folks are from Clan Lok. Certified badasses."

Jay listened closer, filtering through the ambient chatter of the tapcaf to eavesdrop as Snake slapped a dark-skinned man on the shoulder and said, "Nice to see you back in town Ulick. Heard you and your grunts just got back from the equator."

Ulick said nothing, throwing back a shot glass of a dark blue liquid. Snake stared at him, then slapped his shoulder again. "Why are you slumming it with those jungle monkeys? Why don't you and your grunts get yourselves a real contract? Join up with my squad. We could always use the help, and we can charge double for our services."

Ulick finished off another glass, then rested his hands on the bartop and stood from his stool. "First," the tall man said, "my men are not _grunts_. Second, the Rangers aren't _jungle monkeys_. And third, I'd march my team through hell before signing them on with you."

Snake's smile faded and he folded his arms across his chest. "Is that so?"

"It is," Ulick said. "Don't think I forgot what you and your cronies pulled on our last Protector op."

"You made an idiot call, _di'kut_," Snake said. "I wasn't going to risk lives to pull you out of your own mess."

Ulick's eyes blazed with fury. "You left me and my men to _die_."

"Too bad for all of us you all made it out."

Ulick's crew took note of the interaction and stood as well, hands resting dangerously close to their various weapons. Jay could see vibroblades, blasters, even a massive _beskar_ war axe. Fights in the _Oyu'baat _weren't uncommon, but with so much firepower at play she wasn't sure others would be safe if a fight broke out.

Another of Snake's crew stepped up next to him. The new man was wearing bulky armor with twin horns protruding from the forehead of his blue-white helmet. He folded his arms and growled, "Want to take this outside, Ash'amur?"

Snake shook his head. "No, Sholo. No reason we can't settle this right here and now."

Ulick narrowed his eyes and took a step forward, almost nose-to-nose with Snake now. "You want to do this? Let's do it. My men are not _grunts_ and I won't stand by and let you walk over them like this."

"Yeah? So what are you going to do? Fight us? Or just slink back down to your jungle monkey friends?"

Aramis quickly interceded, slamming his hands on the bartop. "Both of you! That's enough. You wanna kill each other, do it outside."

Snake didn't move, and neither did Ulick. All the tapcaf-goers nearby were staring at the two. The tension between the two was palpable, and it felt as if the entire situation could explode at a moment's notice.

Jay acted before she could think better of it. She stood and approached the bar, putting a hand on Snake's armored shoulder pad. "Galaar, that's enough. Don't spoil a perfectly good afternoon by picking fights. You really think Brianna wants to see you in jail?"

"Back off, _aruetii_," the blue-white Mando, Sholo, growled at her. "This is a Mandalorian affair. We don't need you foreigners mucking up the works."

Snake glared at him. "You do remember Brianna's a foreigner?"

Sholo nodded. "Yeah. But an _aruetii_'s an _aruetii_. Just 'cause they're pretty doesn't mean they're like us."

Jay pressed on. "I don't know what kind of beef you have with these guys, but it's not worth getting carted up to Imperial Command for incarceration. Just go your separate ways and try not to kill each other. Okay?"

Snake stared at her, long enough that she started to grow uncomfortable. He was almost a whole head taller than she was, and was carrying two deadly-looking pistols on his belt in addition to the vibrosword sheathed across his back. She didn't want to see those weapons unsheathed. He finally spoke, lip curling as he stared at her. "You're nosy, Moqena. I don't like that."

Sholo chuckled from his shoulder, resting his hand on the butt of his pistol.

"But," Galaar continued, "you're Brianna's friend. That means you're my friend too. For what it's worth."

From somewhere behind her, Jay heard Janada snort in derision. Snake ignored her, turning back to Ulick and his team.

"You're in luck, Ulick. Jaimie here has reminded me that I'm not in the mood for a fight today. Just know that my boys won't be there to pull you out of the next mess you toss yourself in. Best go back to your jungle monkey friends and stay there."

"My men," Ulick snarled, "don't need your help. And we're not going anywhere just because you told us to."

Snake just smirked at him. "Your funeral."

He jerked his head to the door. "Come on, Sholo. We're late for our briefing."

Snake and his cronies quickly finished their drinks and left, obviously basking in the attention the other tapcaf patrons were giving them. When the cantina door slammed behind them, Ulick and his team finally returned to their seats at the bar. Jay overheard one of them mutter, "Kriffing _beroyas_."

Aramis glared at the door. "That's the third time this week Snake and his thugs have come in here and tried to stir up trouble. Much more and I'll have to start denying them access."

"Leave them, Aramis," Ulick said. "They're nothing but talk. Besides, my team is heading back down south in a week's time anyway. Snake can find someone else to pick on after that."

"If you say so, _vod_."

Jay let out a sigh as tapcaf conversation started up again. "Well… that was a little more intense than I usually like."

Ulick snorted, taking a seat at the bar once again. Aramis slid him another blue-hued shot glass. "Fifty credits says that asshole will be back in here tomorrow trying the same damn thing with someone else."

"I don't get it," Jay said. "Snake behaves himself perfectly well when he's with Brianna. And when he's with the rest of his team, he acts like every other Mando I've ever seen. What does he get out of antagonizing other bounty hunters?"

Ulick shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe he just likes the attention."

"I'm not sure alienating your brothers and sisters is a good way to earn popularity," Jay pointed out. "Especially in a society like this."

"Snake has the support of Clan Dorah," Aramis said. "Highly respected, highly lethal warriors. He probably thinks he's untouchable because of it."

Ulick downed another glass, then grimaced at the taste. "Doesn't really matter. This time next week, me and my boys will be back on the frontier with the Rangers. Won't have to worry about Snake and his bullshit anymore."

Jay took a seat next to him. "You two mentioned something about Rangers? What is that?"

"Mandalorian Rangers," Ulick said. "Frontier soldiers that keep the rural farmers safe. Good work for freelancers if you want to sign up."

"Keeping people safe? Safe from what?"

The big man shrugged. "Bandits, Imperials, Kalo wolves… Mandalore is still very much a frontier world. Lots of trouble brewing outside the cities."

"Really? Apart from the bombings, Keldabe usually seems like a pretty calm place."

"It is. But have you ever been outside the city?"

"A friend of mine owns a grassgrain farm-"

Ulick chuckled. "That's not _outside the city_. I'm talking about farms that are out hundreds of miles from the nearest settlement. Farming communities that are so deep in the wilderness that the only access is hiking for weeks through unexplored forests or mountains and every nasty native creature that prowls in between. _That_ is the true frontier.'

"Wow. And people patrol these areas willingly?"

"We need to. Mandalore has an agricultural economy. We need those farms and we need them to not be crawling with monsters twenty-four-seven."

He sighed, raising his glass to his lips. "Now more than ever…"

Jay cocked her head. "What's that? Is there some kind of problem?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "My boys just got back from a tour with the _Werda Kurs _border patrol."

"_Werda Kurs…_" Jay frowned, thinking hard. "That means _Dark Forest_, right?"

"Good job. It's a massive jungle to the south. Hundreds upon hundreds of miles of untouched, unexplored jungle. Full of beasts and bandits and Force-knows what else."

"What needs protecting down there?"

"A couple hundred years ago, Mandos started settling in the jungle. Fertile land down there, if you can cut your way through the wolf packs and Echo Snakes. Scenery's even nice when it's calm. And the local Rangers have set up a permanent deployment along the border of the forest."

"So what's been happening?"

"Not surprised it hasn't hit the news yet. Rangers have been disappearing."

Jay stared at him. "Disappearing? As in…"

"As in they go into the forest, drop out of comm contact, then never come back. Been happening for a few weeks now. No one knows what to make of it and the Rangers are short-staffed as it is, so they're reaching out to any and all comers for assistance. They've even got _aruetii_ mercenaries bolstering their numbers now. My team and I are helping them out and making a pretty penny working with it."

He shrugged. "Last patrol to vanish was Tamai Vasser's group. A shame; she was a good girl with a good head on her shoulders. No way some mindless Blackstalker or Echo Snake took her and her men down. Whatever got her was… worse. Something bigger. Something we haven't seen before."

"Is that common?"

He shook his head. "In three hundred years, we've barely explored fifty miles into the jungle. Only an idiot would believe we've seen all the _Kurs_ has to throw at us."

Jay nodded, running her fingertips over the rough surface of the bar. "And… what kind of work do you do down there?"

Ulick shrugged. "We're usually assigned to daily patrols, agricultural assistance duty – fancy term for helping out the farmers – and sometimes engage local creatures to keep them away from the jungle farms. Plenty of fishing and hunting on downtime."

"Almost sounds nice."

"If you think slogging through the jungle looking for missing soldiers on a daily basis is nice. It's a job, and one that needs to be done. We can't give up on those soldiers, but it's not exactly a mission that inspires a lot of confidence in people assigned to search and rescue duty."

Jay nodded to herself, staring at the bartop for a few moments. Then she patted Ulick's shoulder plate and slid a cluster of credits across the bar. "Thanks for your time. Next drink is on me."

He tipped his glass to her. "Much appreciated."

Jay made her way back to the table with her friends and Janada glanced up as she took her seat again. "Well?" she asked. "Have a nice chat with the big man and his team?"

"I did," Jay said. "It was very… enlightening."

Mia raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How so."

She bit her lip. "I think Cin and I have a new contract."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have some guest appearances for this chapter: Ulick Lok and his team appear courtesy of Mandalore the freedom, while Sholo appears courtesy of ChaosSpartan575 on Deviantart. com. Both authors have various works of their own if you want to check them out.


	5. A New Kind of Contract

**Vhetin's Bastion (later that night)**

"What's this?"

"Triple-weave cortosis-tipped saberdarts," Vhetin explained. "Propelled from the gauntlet launcher, they can rip through durasteel like tissue paper."

Brianna let out a low whistle. "Impressive. And expensive, too. Thinking of using these babies any time soon?"

He grinned. "I'm assuming you heard Oppo Tor is on the loose again? Never know if Xizor is going to want my help on it or not."

Brianna chuckled, looking down and turning his helmet over in her hands. "Looks like this is an upgrade, too."

"Janada outdid herself," Vhetin said, taking the helmet from her. "Durasteel plating, _beskar_ core, padded leather interior with a Bio-COMM Razor Tactical head's-up display. That thing can scan DNA from residual skin flakes in the _air_. Not to mention the upgraded mesh controls with _Void_. If need be, I can pilot my ship from my helmet alone."

"Kriff," Brianna said. "You suffering from some kind of inferiority complex? This kit would make Boba Fett jealous."

"I doubt it," Vhetin said, securing his helmet over his head. "Fett's got access to top-of-the-line Imperial manufacturers; a benefit of being Vader's personal akk dog. By comparison, even MandalMotors tech is amateur stuff."

She scoffed. "Don't let Janada hear you say that."

He picked up his new rifle, a custom MandalMotors special, and racked back the charging rod. The status lights on the housing warmed to green and the weapon let out a high-pitched whine. He held it to his shoulder and aimed down the sights, checking their alignment.

"So…" Brianna said. "I heard things didn't work out with Vachiira."

He grimaced and lowered the rifle, powering it down. "It was… awkward. I'm not sure if you know this, but I'm not much for dating."

"Some things never change." She smiled, though she kept her eyes fixed on the table in front of them, laden with weaponry and armor. Vhetin was taking inventory of his new kit, making sure everything was accounted for before anything exciting happened.

"Alix…" Vhetin sighed, setting down the rifle. "She wanted more than I was willing to give at the time. She pushed too hard too fast. I…"

"You don't need to explain to me," Brianna said. "I know you had your reasons. I take it you two parted on good terms at least?"

He nodded. "It was awkward, like the rest of our relationship. But… I don't know."

Brianna was more than happy to let the matter rest. Instead, she picked up a pair of pistols from the tabletop and spun them around her fingers. "Look at these beauties. Where'd you pick them up?"

"Black market deal on Nal Hutta," he said. "Nice auction overseen by Yorra the Hutt. You can have them if you want."

"Thanks," Brianna said, setting down the weapons, "but no thanks. I'm not giving up my normal guns. They may be antiques, but they're _my_ antiques."

"You'll find no judgement from me. You've got good taste in weaponry."

She folded her arms. "So… you preparing for something with all this kit?"

"What do you mean?"

She gestured to the table. "This is a little much for homefront defense. Do you have a new contract set up?"

He started loading ammunition into a bandolier. "Maybe. Is that a problem?"

"It's just… well, that contract on Ord Mantell wasn't exactly textbook. I hope you know what you're doing."

He glanced over at her. "Are you insinuating something?"

"No! No, just… you were hurt pretty badly. I don't want to see you throw yourself back into the fray when…"

"When what? When I'm out of practice? Weak?"

"No! Just…"

She was about to say more when there was a loud knock at the front door. Both looked up sharply, Vhetin's hand dropping to the pistols on the table. But moments later, a voice crackled through the intercom. Jay's voice.

"_Cin, it's me. Can I come in?"_

He glanced at Brianna, then moved away from the pistol. "Sure. Let me get the door."

He blinked at the flashing light on his HUD, unsealing the front door of his house. Seconds later, he heard the heavy durasteel blast shield rattle open. Moments later, Jay stepped into the central room where the table was set up. She quickly took stock of the situation and noticed how close Vhetin and Brianna were standing, then stopped short, obviously uncomfortable.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," Vhetin said. He was tired of feeling awkward whenever he was alone with his ex, so he'd decided to simply not let it be awkward. "Brianna was just helping me check over some of my new kit upgrades."

"Ah," she said, stepping closer to the table. "And how are Janada's newest toys working out?"

"See for yourself."

He picked up the rifle and handed it to her to inspect. She shouldered the weapon and tested the sights, then let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Wow. Say what you want about their public relations department, but MandalMotors is at the top of their game when it comes to armaments."

"Yeah, yeah," Brianna smirked. "Cin's always been a sucker for the newest, flashiest toys. But you can't beat the classics, no matter how hard you try."

Jay handed the rifle back. "Well you got ahold of this stuff just in time, Cin. It's almost like you have a sixth sense about this stuff."

"What do you mean? Do you have a contract for us?"

"In a manner of speaking." Jay rested her hands on her hips. "I was out for drinks with Janada and Mia earlier and we stumbled across a patrol of mercs coming back up from the jungle. Apparently they had just gotten back from a tour with the jungle border patrol."

"Rangers?" Vhetin said with a curious frown. "What are they doing so far north?"

Jay eased herself down onto the couch. "They weren't Rangers, but they had just finished working with them. They said there was good money to be made helping out the jungle patrols in something called the _Werda Kurs_."

"The Dark Forest," Vhetin said, folding his arms. "Nasty place. Full of creatures that can eat up and spit out even the most seasoned Mandalorian. What's going on down there that the Rangers need extra hands?"

"Apparently patrols are going missing in the jungles. Except the patrols going missing are some of the best down there. The mercs seemed especially surprised by some Ranger called Vasser. Apparently she was the last to go missing."

Vhetin stiffened. What did she just say? He hadn't heard that name in years. He glanced over at Brianna, who seemed similarly surprised. Her jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Vasser, huh?" she said. "Well isn't that a surprise."

"You know this woman?"

"Yeah," Vhetin said, rubbing at the back of his neck. Tamai was a sensitive subject, even though it had been years since they'd last seen each other. "We, uh… we go way back. And you're sure she went missing?"

"That's what the guy said. About a week or so ago."

Vhetin nodded, a frown hardening his face. "All right. I'm assuming you want to head down to the jungle for the contract?"

"Wait, wait," Brianna said, holding her hands up. "Wait a second. You aren't seriously thinking about going down there, are you?"

"If there's money in it, why not?" Jay said. "Besides, if the Rangers need help, Vhetin is probably more than happy to give them some assistance."

Brianna ignored her. "Cin, you know that whatever Tamai's gotten herself into she can handle it herself. You don't need to get dragged into it too."

"You can't know that," Vhetin replied. "What if she's hurt? What if she's-"

"Do I need to remind you that the last time you two saw each other, she almost killed you? Not to mention the fact that she said she never wanted to see you again?"

He grimaced. It was true they hadn't parted on the best of terms. But if she was lost and wounded now, how could he just turn his back? He needed to find out what had happened to her; he owed her that much.

He turned to Jay again. "What do you know about what's going on in the jungle? Did these mercs give you any specifics?"

Jay nodded while Brianna scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I did some research and found out that the Mandalore is sending a detachment of soldiers to reinforce the Rangers and find out what's going on. Apparently some big-shot bounty hunter named Tervho is leading the reinforcement team."

"Vhonte Tervho?" Vhetin laughed. "Whatever beasts are picking off the Rangers won't know what hit them if she's heading down there. It would be an honor to fight alongside her."

"Ooh," Jay said with a grin. "Sounds like Cin's going all fanboy on us. Who is this Tervho?"

"His great-aunt," Brianna said. "More or less. Cin is part of Clan Bralor because of his relationship with Janada. And Tervho is the Bralor Clanmaster's sister."

"Tervho is the quintessential Mandalorian," Vhetin said. "She was recruited in the _Cuy'val Dar _when she was eighteen and served in the Grand Army of the Republic throughout the Clone Wars. After that, she returned to Mandalore to help organize the Protector army. Now she's a freelance bounty hunter who's worked with the best in the business."

"And now she's going to the jungle to find the missing patrols," Brianna said. "And with her on top of things, they probably don't even need-"

"Don't," Vhetin interrupted her. "I've made up my mind, Brianna. Don't try and change it now. Tamai needs help and I'm going to help her."

"Fine," the huntress said, crossing her arms defiantly. "But don't be surprised when you find Tamai alive and well and probably with a gun in your face. You'll be able to sense my I-told-you-so speech even down there in the jungle."

"So we're going to do this?" Jay asked. "We're heading to the jungle?"

"I think you'd be hard-pressed to change his mind now," Brianna said, watching Vhetin as he began gathering up his arms and armor. "You might as well get a speeder ticket now."

"I'm going to see Shysa," Vhetin said. "See if there's any truth to these rumors. Jay, get prepped for a trip to the tropics and get the heaviest armor you can find."

Jay nodded and moved to leave. Before she could make it too far, Vhetin called her back. "Before you go, you may want to take this."

He tossed her a razor-edged _beskad_ sword, which she caught with a flourish. "What's this for?"

"Between the Echo Snakes, Kalo Wolves, and packs of nexu," Brianna said, "that blade could very well be more effective than your blaster."

"Right. Suddenly I'm not so confident about this."

"It'll be fine. Just get _Void_ and _Vengeance _prepped," Vhetin said. "I'll meet you there after I'm through meeting with _te Mand'alor_."

"All right. Good luck, Cin. Hopefully Shysa has the answers you're looking for."

He nodded. "See you soon."

Jay left the central room, leaving Vhetin and Brianna alone once again. The huntress watched Vhetin work on getting his gear together, then folded her arms with a frown. "Okay, I'm going to say what we're both thinking. Tamai is a bad influence on you and finding her again is only going to lead you back to a bad place."

He snorted. "Tamai isn't a bad influence. She's just a friend."

"Uh-huh. You remember that she was the one that got you involved in the Tyretian Crisis? And the Durenian Expedition? And the-"

"So she has a knack for getting caught up in dangerous stuff. Am I so different?"

"But Tamai is a Mandalorian just like you," Brianna said. "She doesn't have any _aruetii_ caution to hold you back."

"Doesn't matter. I'm not abandoning her down in the jungle. Whatever's going on with the Rangers, she's going to need backup."

"And if it turns out she's perfectly fine? What if this is all old information?"

"Then Jay and I will spend a few weeks along the equator doing gruntwork for the Rangers and come back with a fat paycheck. Simple."

Brianna sighed, then stepped forward and began helping him gather his equipment together. "All right, but don't say I didn't warn you."


	6. Where is Tamai?

**Offices of Fenn Shysa, MandalMotors Complex, Keldabe**

Shysa looked up from the paperwork on his desk at the sound of his office door sheathing open. Vhetin felt bad for insisting an audience, but this was too important to leave for another day. Tamai was Fenn's niece and the only father figure the woman had, and he cared more about her well-being than anyone else in Keldabe, save for maybe Vhetin himself. So Vhetin needed to see him, even if it scored him bad-guy points in Tobbi Dala's books.

Dala was following close behind, a scowl on his craggy face. He hadn't been happy to let anyone through – he claimed Shysa was in an important meeting with someone – but Vhetin was a well-respected Protector and had a good history with the Mandalore's offices. The deputy was unhappy, but Vhetin's insistence had won him over.

Now, as they entered the Mandalore's offices, Vhetin saw Dala hadn't been lying. Shysa was indeed in a meeting. Sitting across from his desk was a lanky man dressed in an armored leather trenchcoat. Tangled locks of long brown hair adorned with beads and braids framed a gaunt, angry face while angular tribal tattoos covered muscular arms and neck. The man's narrowed blue eyes carried a steely look that made even Vhetin pause.

Vhetin came to a halt and bowed at the neck and shoulders in a respectful sign of greeting. "_Mand'alor _Shysa, I greet you in honor."

He looked to the other man. "Clanmaster Benz, it's an honor to see you again."

The tattooed man, Norac Benz, just tipped his head back and smirked. When he spoke, his voice was thick with what sounded like a Coruscanti underworld accent; this man was from the south, near the colony of Gallataea. "Wish I could say likewise."

"I'm sorry, lad," Shysa said, "but you're interruptin' a very important meetin' with Master Benz, here. If you could just wait outside-"

"Tried it already, Boss," Dala growled. "Said I could either escort him in or try and keep him out."

"And that buffaloed you outta security detail?" Shysa's voice carried a smile. "Tobbi, I'm disappointed in you."

"We know Vhetin," Dala growled. "And last time he came to us, it was with information on an attempted political assassination. Seemed stupid to turn him down again."

Shysa sighed, then gestured to a vacant chair next to Benz. "All right then. Pull up a stool, _vod_."

Vhetin nodded, noting how Dala didn't back out of the room. He stayed near the door, arms folded across his armored chest with his gaze never leaving the back of Vhetin's helmet. Vhetin ignored the _Mand'alor_'s overprotective deputy and took a seat next to Benz. The Berserker Clanmaster smelled of sweat, smoke, and rough leather, so strong it managed to seep through the olfactory cleaners of Vhetin's helmet. As Vhetin settled in, the Berserker leader pulled a rough-rolled smokestick from behind his ear and lit it with an old-fashioned matchstick from somewhere in his pockets.

Shysa grimaced at the resulting puff of smoke. "So what did you need, lad? Must be somethin' important or you woulda just settled for Dala."

"It's about Tamai."

Shysa's face didn't change, but Vhetin noticed a wary look come into the man's blue eyes. Benz just looked between the two with barely-concealed intrigue, that same smirk never leaving his lips. The tattooed man folded his arms across his belt buckle and put his feet up on the edge of Shysa's desk, puffing on the smokestick. Shysa made no move to stop him.

"I heard that Tamai went missing," Vhetin said. "That something attacked her patrol and she hasn't been seen since. Is this true?"

"According to our latest intel from the Rangers," Shysa said, "it's true."

Vhetin let out a long breath he hadn't known he was holding. His entire body felt jittery, like he was amped-up on adrenaline. He clenched his hands into fists and nodded. "All right. What attacked her?"

"Dunno. But our Tamai wouldn't be stopped by some mindless beast. My best guess is bandits."

"Or maybe," Norac Benz growled in his gravely rasp of a voice, "she slipped up like all soldiers eventually do. That far south, in wild country? One small mistake and…" He put to fingers to his head, mimicking a gun. "_Pow_. End of the line."

Shysa glared at him. "Are you gonna be this cheerful the whole time?"

Benz shrugged, spreading his arms as he held the smokestick in his teeth. "I am known for my optimism. It's what makes me such a… _charming_ individual."

"Right. Well keep that charming personality of yours under wraps for the moment, all right?"

Benz relented and Shysa looked back to Vhetin with another weary sigh. "All right, lad. Here's the extent of what we know: about a week ago, Tamai went on a midnight patrol with her men and didn't come back. The local Rangers got a partial transmission at the time of disappearance."

He reached over and tapped a button on a holocomm unit embedded in his desk. The unit sputtered and Tamai's voice started playing.

_"This is Mandalorian Ranger Tamai Vasser,_" the panicked voice said,_ "calling for immediate reinforcements! Coordinates are thirty-two-twenty delta quadrant by six-"_

There was a warbling screech, then the transmission cut out. Vhetin's heart was pounding in his chest, but he forced himself to sit still. Shysa switched off the recorder, then folding his arms, staring at Vhetin with a raised eyebrow.

"This is the sixth patrol to go missing in the last two months," Shysa said. "The locals are getting' scared; after all, the Rangers are supposed to be the ones protectin' people, you know. And if somethin's pickin' them off, what are they gonna do to the settlers?"

"Do they know what's been attacking the patrols?"

"Nope. Whatever's been gettin' em, it leaves no bodies, no claw marks, no evidence of what they've been doin'. We think it may be Echo Snakes adopting new hunting patterns to adapt to the Ranger patrols. Those buggers are smart, you know."

"That's not what I heard," Benz growled with a self-assured smile. His eyes were like ice as he regarded the two. He eventually held his hands up in surrender. "Right, right. Cheery attitude under wraps. I heard."

"No, no, lad," Shysa said. "You have somethin' to add. So add it."

Benz shrugged. "I heard that the locals know what's been eating the Rangers up like sweetcakes. Even have a name for them: _Kar'ta Epar'e_.

"Heart Eaters?" Vhetin said, easily translating the words. "What exactly are they?"

"According to local legend," Benz said, shifting in his seat, "they're the spirits of ancient Mandalorians, guarding the long-lost treasures of the Neo-Crusaders hidden deep in ancient bases in the jungle. Those woods were a stronghold of the Mandalore's people back during the Wars, you know."

"Those bases are empty," Vhetin said. "Treasure hunters have been going down there for generations and no one has found anything. Besides, there's no way a ghost took out Tamai and her team."

"Then tell me," Benz smirked, "why the Rangers have their own codex entry on these _Kar'ta Epar'e_. If they're just local legend, what interest would the Rangers have in them?"

Vhetin frowned, looking to Shysa for clarification. "Is that true?"

Shysa nodded. "As long as we're speakin' off the record… the Rangers believe that these so-called Heart Eaters are a species of hyper-agile humanoids that live in the deep jungle. Stone-age-level technology, but still very dangerous. It's no secret that they hunt near the old Mando bases, so the Rangers try to steer clear of those areas."

"Officially their position is that it's all _osik_," Dala growled from behind them. "They don't know what these things are so they don't waste time and manpower trying to find out. As long as they stay out of the no-go zones, the Rangers are fine."

"Obviously things have changed. Why are the rangers being attacked now?"

"De-forestation is bringing the settlers closer and closer to the no-go zones," Shysa said. "So the Rangers are forced to patrol deeper into the jungle to keep the settlers safe."

"And apparently that upset the ghosts," Benz chuckled. "So they're bringing down some supernatural shit on our poor, overwhelmed Rangers."

Vhetin glanced at him. "_Our _Rangers?"

Shysa nodded, resting his hands on the table. "That's right. The Rangers have been requestin' aid for months, but now things are gettin' too dicey. So I'm sendin' them reinforcements until they can get this under control."

Benz spread his hands again. "Meet the reinforcements."

"You?" Vhetin scoffed. "Shysa's sending the Berserkers to the jungle?"

"Not a bad plan, right?" Benz grinned. "We're the most skilled jungle-lovers this side of the equator. My men know how to survive in rough terrain. The _Werda Kurs _is no different. Trees, streams, rocks, monsters…"

"I think the _Werda Kurs_ is a little different than your average forest, Benz. Wouldn't need Rangers otherwise."

"A jungle's a jungle," Benz growled. "Doesn't matter if it's a beast from up here or down there: hack away at something hard enough, it dies. Doesn't matter if it's a Kalo Wolf, a Gundark, or one of these spooky Heart Eaters. If it's alive, it can also die."

"Give me the rundown," Vhetin said. "I want to sign up."

Shysa nodded. "Got a feelin' you'd say that. If you really wanna be part of this, then who am I to stop a willing volunteer?"

The Mandalore looked up to Dala and gave him a short nod. Dala folded his arms across his chest. "We're assembling a reinforcement team led by freelancer Vhonte Tervho of Clan Bralor. Norac Benz and his Berserkers—"

Benz cleared his throat. "We prefer the term _Mountain Clan_."

Dala rolled his eyes. "All right, then. Benz and the Mountain Clan will be the main force of this team and will be under the direct supervision and command of freelancer Tervho. Tervho has full control of this operation until such time that the reinforcement team arrives at the equator."

"Really?" Vhetin said, turning a raised eyebrow in Benz's direction. "I thought the Berserkers submitted to no authority but yours, Norac."

Benz sniffed noncommittally. "Tervho and I go way back. Served in the Protectors together, back in the day. She's all right by me."

"Once the reinforcement team reaches the Ranger outpost along the borders of the _Werda Kurs_," Shysa continued, "they'll set up scoutin' parties to help the locals find the missing troops. They'll meet up with…" he consulted a datapad on his desk, "Ranger-Commander Che'daje. She's in charge of finding the missing Rangers."

Norac let out a low whistle. "Controversial figure, that one. Ain't she the _aruetii_ one?"

"That's correct."

Norac snorted. "Good luck gettin' my boys to follow her orders. I barely tolerate listening to you, Shysa. Do you think they'll listen to a foreigner?"

"That's why Tervho is going along," Shysa said. "She'll be your liason and will relay Che'daje's orders to you. And you'll follow Tervho's orders. Because you two go way back, remember?"

Norac narrowed his ice-blue eyes, but fell silent.

"What about Tamai?" Vhetin said.

Shysa sighed, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. "I won't lie to you, lad. It doesn't look good. She's been missing for over a week and there's been no sign of her since then."

That wasn't good. After two days, the chances of finding a missing person plummeted, even if that person was as resilient and resourceful as Tamai Vasser. "The Rangers have someone out there looking for her, right?"

"Everyone who can spare the time is on search duty."

"That fills me with confidence, _Mand'alor_."

"That's why we're sending reinforcements," Dala said, speaking as if to a small child. "Then, the Rangers have more people to spare."

Shysa shot a warning glare at his deputy. "Not exactly tactful, but Tobbi's right. With the extra support, the Rangers'll be able to spare more people to help search for the missin' men. If you can round up some like-minded friends of your own, well… the more the merrier."

Vhetin nodded. "My partner's already onboard. When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow night," Shysa said. "Keldabe spaceport, docking bay fifteen. I can maneuver it so that it's registered as a specialized Protector mission. That way, you and Miss Moqena can be paid for your services."

Norac chuckled, chewing on his smokestick as a haze of smoke wafted around his head. "And I'm sure the hefty bounty on whatever's killing the Rangers is just extra incentive."

"There's a bounty on the _Kar'ta Epar'e_?"

Benz chuckled again. "How did you think they managed to rope Tervho into this? She may be a patriot, but she doesn't work for free."


	7. In Transit

**Freelance Transport _Mandalore's Resolution_, transport convoy en route to _Werda Kurs_**

The deck bucked heavily underneath Jay's boots, sending a jostling tremor through the passenger bay that had armor clanking and several passengers grumbling. A crate of weapons came unsecured from its crash webbing and slammed hard to the durasteel floor. A red-suited MandalMotors tech quickly moved forward to secure it back to its proper place.

Jay clenched her hands into fists in her lap, taking a deep breath. Vhetin, who had so far been buried in a datapad the entire trip, glanced up at her and cocked his helmeted head in curiosity.

"I never thought I'd see you with flight nerves."

She shook her head. "I'm used to being in the cockpit, Cin. Where I can actually _see_ where we're going? Not to mention all the readouts, displays, and technical evaluations telling us what this _kriffing_ turbulence is all about."

She cursed as the deck began to bounce again, throwing her forward against her seat restraints. She grabbed hold of the seat for a more secure handhold, even though she knew full well she could be ejected from the side of the transport and still remain tethered to her chair.

The interior of the transport was cramped and stuffy, and with more than twenty heavily-armored men and women crammed into a single enclosed area, it was quickly beginning to smell. The dull grumble of chatter echoed up and down the grated durasteel walkway that divided the ship in half, and Mandos occasionally braved the turbulence to walk back and forth to chat with friends or retrieve necessary equipment. As of yet, Jay hadn't found sufficient need to even unbuckle herself from her crash webbing.

Norac Benz, seated across from her, shot her a haughty smirk, narrowing his ice-blue eyes as he chewed on a twig he'd snagged before takeoff. His seat restraints weren't even buckled, and he was sprawled casually in his seat with his foot tapping rhythmically against the metal grated floor.

"Just flyin' through a storm, darling," he growled, a lock of dark brown hair falling in front of his eyes as he regarded Jay with a predatory stare. He hooked his thumbs into his belt and cocked his head nonchalantly, as if to taunt her. "They get a lot of 'em down this way. Wreaks hell with your fancy ships and _technical evaluations_. Just have to get used to it."

Jay grimaced. "That doesn't help me feel any better. And don't call me _darling._"

Benz chuckled, rolling the twig between his teeth. "What, you'd prefer _aruetii_ bitch?"

"Hey," Vhetin interceded, voice harsh. "Tone it back."

"What are you even doing here?" Jay asked him. "I thought you and your Berserkers hated modern technology."

"We hate _new_ technology," the clanmaster corrected. "We want to go back to the way things were under the first Mandalores, when our people were strong. Still had flight and space travel back then, _aruetii_. We just don't need to rely on tech as a crutch like you city folks."

"But-"

"What? You thought we were a bunch of backwards cavemen, living up in the hills with nothing but sticks and stones? Grow up, girl. We're not that stupid."

"That remains to be seen."

A new voice cut in. "Stow it, the both of you. We're almost to the rendezvous point. If you want to go at each other's throats once we're off the ship and in the jungle, be my guest. But as long as you're in transit, you behave yourselves."

Benz relaxed against his seat, folding one leg over the other comfortably. "As you say, Captain Tervho."

The new speaker was a tall, armored woman who looked over at them with a warning glare. She was surprisingly attractive woman of around forty five, with a brilliant mane of flame-red hair tied back into a bundle of long, tight braids that fell over her shoulders. Her armor was colored a deep red and was stylized with a multitude of jet-black stripes. A dark blue cape fell from her shoulders, secured there by thick leather pauldrons that she strapped over her collar plate. She had a pair of angular MandalMotors-issue blaster pistols holstered on her belt a wickedly sharp _beskad_ saber sheathed across her back.

Vhonte Tervho, Mandalorian bounty hunter and legendary _Cuy'val Dar_ trainer, was a sight to behold. She was tough and no-nonsense, a personality trait Jay had come to respect – if not enjoy – during her time in the Navy. Jay had known little about the woman before Vhetin had introduced themselves before takeoff, but in that short time she had already come to respect the woman even without the backstory Vhetin had given her before they took off.

Tervho had been called to service as a clone trooper trainer at the age of eighteen, and had been placed in a position of prominence among the clones on Kamino alongside Mandalorian legends like Jango Fett and Rav Bralor. Tervho went on to serve the Republic during the Clone Wars, commanding an elite unit of Advanced Reconnaissance Commandos in several critical missions. After the Wars, the woman had returned to her previous profession as a freelance bounty hunter, and had gained much fame and fortune as a result. To date, she was the only Mandalorian whose name Jay had recognized before coming to Mandalore (besides Boba Fett, of course) though the recognition stopped at her name and reputation. To see her in person was like seeing the Mandalorian version of Darth Vader, though admittedly without the constant fear of being throttled.

Of course, her own respect for the hunter might have been influenced by Vhetin's own fascination with the woman. If she didn't know better, Jay would have thought Vhetin wanted nothing more than to ask for her autograph. The reverent way he treated the huntress reminded Jay of teenage girls clamoring for their favorite singers; only in this case, Vhetin was obsessing over a heavily armed and armored bounty huntress with a sterling reputation for taking high-stakes bounty missions. As they had begun their journey to the equator, Vhetin regaled her with stories he'd heard of her more famous hunts:

There was the D'orelli contract, where she had single-handed infiltrated a Black Sun base and escaped with her bounty – an Ubese assassin – unharmed and undetected. Jay knew from personal experience that Black Sun took security _very_ seriously, and couldn't begin to imagine what hoops Tervho had to jump through to pull off an undetected kidnapping.

The Quesh contract, where she had traveled deep into the poisoned swamps of Quesh to retrieve three separate bounties, all of whom were categorized as Class Tens, the most lethal bounties a hunter could pursue. To date, Jay only had one Class Ten hunt under her belt and it was more than enough to sate her appetite for a very long while.

And of course there was the Two-hundred-tenth Great Hunt, where Tervho had claimed ultimate victory by a narrow margin, exposing a corrupt Imperial Moff and earning a wash of commendations from the Empire and a personal congratulation from Darth Vader himself. The victory was hailed as one of the greatest pro-Mandalorian public relations stories in the last three decades, and Tervho was surely still raking in the credits from such a win.

All that considered, it was no wonder Shysa had reached out to the woman to help with this mission. She was a superstar among the Mandalorians and, if Vhetin's reaction to her presence was any indicator, a stellar example many _Mando'ade_ sought to emulate.

Now, Tervho was walking up and down the row of passenger seats, trading a few words with the Berserkers and even joking or laughing with some of them. She seemed very at ease with the coarse and unruly men and women of Norac Benz's clan, though that would make sense consider the rumor that the two had once been… close.

She stopped between Jay and Benz, glancing between the two with a raised eyebrow and settling her hands on her hips. "I'm not going to have any trouble with you two, am I?"

Benz settled back in his seat with a grin, chewing on the end of his twig. "That's for you to decide, Captain. Since your Mandalore was kind enough to hand my men over to you, you're the boss."

"Oh really? I'm surprised you'd follow authority so easily, Norac. That was never your strong suit."

"For you, darling, I'll make an exception."

"I'll take that as a compliment. And don't call me _darling_."

Benz rolled his eyes while Tervho turned to Vhetin and Jay, fixing them with a skeptical stare. "I have to admit, I was surprised when I saw your names on the duty roster. What are a couple of _beroya'e_ doing on a mission like this?"

"Besides the bounty on the _Kar'ta Epar'e_?" Vhetin offered.

"Nice try. But I looked up your history before you boarded and familiarized myself with your work."

Vhetin looked genuinely surprised, even behind the faceplate of his helmet. "You… you honor me, Captain. Us, I mean."

"Don't get all starry-eyed, Vhetin," Tervho sighed, pulling down a collapsible stool from an overhead compartment and settling down in front of them. The deck heaved treacherously as she did, but she paid it no mind, her dark blue gaze never leaving the two seated before her. "I like to know what I'm getting into before signing off on anything. Call it pragmatism.

"That contract on Telos, hunting down Oppo Tor with Fett breathing down your neck was tough, I'll grant you that. Your deployment with the Protectors on Tachador even more so. But those were both on civilized worlds, surrounded by civilized people." She stared at the two hunters and cocked her head. "You've been on one or two jungle slogs before, Vhetin, but nothing like this. And you, Miss Moqena, well… this is going to be an eye opening experience for you."

She rested her armored forearms on her thighs. "Neither of you two are frontier scouts or pioneers. You're _beroya'e, _used to working with tech, support, and an arsenal of firepower to back you up. So why sign up for a job like this?"

"A bounty hunter goes where the job is," Jay dutifully quoted from Vhetin's early teachings. "We don't complain and we don't question orders. Once we take a contract, we're committed."

"As much as I applaud your hunter's spirit," Tervho said, "I want you to cut the bullshit. Off the record. What's the ulterior motive here? Because if it's going to endanger _my_ mission, I have a right to know about it."

Jay glanced over at Vhetin, who sighed and said, "You got us, Captain. We do have more reason to come down here. Or rather, I do."

"Explain."

"One of the Rangers that went missing," Vhetin said slowly, "Tamai Vasser. She's… she's a friend. And when I heard she was missing, I knew I would have to pitch in to help find her. I'm not going to give up on her like all the others seem to be and I'm not going to sit back and let someone else look for her. I owe her that much."

Tervho stared into the flat surface of Vhetin's faceplate, which only served to impress Jay more; not many people could stare down a Mandalorian and win. But Vhetin looked down at his lap after a long few moments and said, "I apologize for not informing you sooner. _Ni ceta, alor'ad_."

"_Wer'cuy_," Tervho responded. "Forget it. What matters is that you let me know now."

She straightened and replaced the stool back to its place in the overhead compartment. She adjusted one of her pauldrons and said, "Regardless of your motivations, it'll be good to have you aboard. You're a good tracker, Vhetin. If anyone can find your missing friend, I'm sure it's you."

"_Ori'vor'e_, Captain. That means a lot, coming from you."

"Less than you think, actually. Now settle in for a bumpy landing. We're coming up on the landing site soon."

Her cape billowed around her as she turned and headed for the cockpit. As she passed she said, "As soon as we have boots on the ground, I want to see you in private, Norac. We have things to discuss."

Benz bounced his eyebrows suggestively while her back was turned, a wide grin on his gaunt face. Without even turning to look at him, Tervho threw him a rude hand gesture and said, "Not like that, _di'kut_."

As soon as the cockpit door had sealed shut behind her, Jay pointed after the huntress and said, "I like her."


	8. Mandalorian Rangers

_**Werda Kurs**_ **landing site, five miles from border outpost**

As soon as the transport doors slid open, a blast of fetid, humid air washed into the troop bay. The olfactory scanners in Vhetin's helmet picked up the pheromone traces of at least thirty different species of flower, and his audio sensors had to filter through an instant cacophony of animal hoots, insect buzzing, and the distant roar of a waterfall.

Norac Benz slapped his thighs as he stood from his seat, grabbing his trademark battleaxe from the compartment overhead and throwing it over his shoulder. He hooked his arm through the straps of his massive _beskar_ shield, still chewing on his worn twig as he looked back to the others assembled behind him. "Berserkers! Mount up!"

A chorus of throaty roars met his words as his men set to their duties with gusto. Vhetin stood as well and slung his supply pack over his shoulder where his jetpack would usually rest. The pack was loaded with rations, survival gear, and other various resources he would need for a jungle hunt.

As he worked, the shipwide intercom buzzed and Vhonte Tervho's voice said, "_We've touched down safely at Outpost Aurek. Offload, arm yourselves, and try not to track mud through the ship. The pilot gets cranky."_

He turned to find Jay standing just behind him, clad in her new jungle combat gear. It was a set of light Mandalorian armor that fit snugly over her normal leather jacket, with a single long leather pauldron that stretched out over her right shoulder. The durasteel plates, inlaid with sheets of protective _beskar_, were painted in dark matte camouflage to help blend with the foliage and reduce glare from the sun. The suit usually came with a helmet but Jay had politely turned it down, claiming the HUD distracted her and she preferred to keep her hair loose.

"Nervous?" he asked her.

She smiled, holstering her trusty pistol on her belt. "I was just about to ask you the same question. I won't lie and say that the stories the Berserkers told about this place were comforting. Did you know there are twenty-six different species of snakes in this jungle that can kill you with a single bite? And don't even get me started on the karking spiders…"

"That's Mandalore for you," Vhetin said. "Home, sweet home."

She shivered. "But I'll do what's necessary, I guess. What about you?"

He grabbed his rifle and tucked it against his shoulder. "I'm just eager to get out there and find Tamai."

"You really think she's alive?"

"Yes," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Tamai is the most resourceful woman I know. If anyone could survive out here, it's her."

"But-"

"We'll find out more once we get out there," he interrupted. If he let himself dwell on all the different ways he could be proved wrong he'd lose his nerve right there. "Just watch your step. From what I've heard, the Rangers are a little… rough."

"Like Janada-on-a-good-day rough or Norac Benz-on-a-bad-day rough?"

"A little harsher than the former, but capable of being every bit the latter. These guys are used to operating on their own with little to no oversight from Keldabe. They may not be all that eager to have Berserkers muscling in on their territory."

The door to the ship's cockpit sheathed open and Tervho emerged just as she was securing her red-black helmet over her head. Vhetin saluted to her as she approached, snapping his fist to his shoulder and bowing his head. "Captain Tervho. Where do you want us when we're ready for deployment?"

"Glad you asked," the woman said, tapping commands into a datapad in her hand. "I've been in contact with the local Ranger-Commander, a Cathar soldier by the name of Che'daje. Apparently their parties searching for the missing men stumbled across a hysterical man in the jungles. He was ranting about one of their patrols and how they were all killed by monsters from the trees."

She lowered her pad and met Vhetin's gaze. "I want you and Norac to interview this man and find out what he knows. If you're half the tracker your sister claims you are, you should be able to get some info from him."

"It'll be done," he said. "But why bring Benz? The last thing we need is him terrorizing the witness."

"Norac isn't as bad as you think, Vhetin. Besides, every good merc needs a bad merc backing him up."

She turned to Jay. "You'll come with me, Moqena. We're going on a tour of the Rangers' facilities and familiarizing ourselves with the layout. We're going to be spending a considerable amount of time with these people, so let's make sure we know our way around."

"Yes, Captain."

She glanced over her shoulder, then lowered her voice. "Off the record, I want the two of you to keep an eye on things. I don't know what these Rangers know, but I'm sure they won't appreciate us stepping on their toes like this. Since you two are one of the few non-Berserker troops on this op, I want you to get on the Rangers' good side. We don't want to alienate these people, or our job will be that much harder. And I doubt Norac and his men are going to be very helpful when it comes to building bridges down here."

She glanced between the two. "I'm counting on your discretion here. Did I choose the right people?"

Vhetin glanced at his partner, then nodded. "Discretion's all part of the job description, Captain."

"Glad to hear it. I knew it was going to be nice having a few _beroya'e_ on this mission. Move out and don't forget to bring your bug spray." Tervho moved toward the exit ramp, disappearing outside with her blue-black cape flowing out behind her.

Vhetin glanced at his partner and shrugged before hefting his MandalMotors rifle into his hands. "I guess we just signed on for inter-team politics as well as search and rescue."

Jay grinned and clapped his shoulder. "Just like old times. Remember Balmorra?"

He grimaced behind his helmet faceplate. "I try not to."

Outpost Aurek was more organized than Jay thought it would be. When she'd first heard of the Rangers and their forces on the edges of wild territory, she had assumed it was a fairly new deployment. She had imagined a shantytown of tents and prefab shelters with ramshackle wooden scout towers and simple defenses. But now that she was here, she found Aurek was a sprawling settlement the size of a small town. She saw speeders and defensive turrets and old reprogramed CIS battle droids, patrolling the edges of the landing pad. Beyond the landing pad were gardens and market stalls and even a local cantina that – to no surprise – seemed to be the most popular part of the outpost.

It was almost a peaceful scene: the sun was shining down overhead, and there was a near-deafening chorus of birdcalls from the thick jungle foliage not far from the edge of the settlement. She could see children running through the streets, shouting and laughing as they pretended to fire imaginary blasters or spar with sticks instead of swords.

Dominating the entire scene was a statue of an ancient Mandalorian with his spear held high. She remembered seeing his type of soldier in old holos during history classes back at the Imperial Academy: this statue was of a Neo-Crusader, the elite shock troops that spearheaded the Mandalorian Wars almost four thousand years ago. There were others like it, too: sculptures and statues and pieces of rubble that looked like old parts of buildings, obviously moved to this location at great expense. They were scattered all around the outpost and were either playgrounds for the children or very clearly marked as off-limits by the blaring lights of holographic barriers reading _KEEP OFF_.

"What's with all the decorations?" Jay asked. "Even Keldabe isn't decked out this nice."

"Taken a liking to our little equatorial art gallery, eh?"

Jay turned to find a gray-armored Mandalorian at her shoulder. He was wearing a thick poncho around his neck that was tugged lightly by the humid jungle breeze. A shaggy mess of blond hair hung over his face, partially obscuring his friendly grin. He didn't look that much older than her, though the heavy scar over one eye suggested he'd been in the jungle quite some time.

He gestured to the statue of the Mandalorian with the spear and said, "We find stuff like that in the jungle sometimes. Remnants of the Old Mando bases in this area from about five millennia ago. It would be a shame to just leave 'em out there to rot in the jungle, so we bring them back to Aurek so the archaeologists can take a look at them."

"Archaeologists?" she laughed. "I didn't know there was such a thing as a Mandalorian archaeologist."

He responded with a crooked grin. "They're pretty rare, it's true. So we fly some Imperial scientists down here. They're content to sit here and analyze things, provided we play nice with their stormtroopers and don't ask them to go out into the big bad jungle."

"There are stormtroopers?" Jay asked, a note of fear coming into her voice. "Here?"

She felt Vhetin put a comforting hand on her shoulder and forced herself to relax; the Mandos won't let anything happen to her. Not at Imperial hands anyway.

She'd never had a great relationship with stormtroopers. They'd been her guards when she'd been imprisoned for treason on Corulag so long ago. She still felt the phantom sensation of her old bruises and broken bones throb every time she saw polished white armor or those eye-shaped visors.

The gray-armored Mandalorian didn't seem to notice her discomfort, hooking his thumbs into his belt as he joined their procession into the outpost. "They're mostly here to keep watch over home base while the Rangers go out and do the real work. If we leave them alone, they usually leave us alone."

He held out his hand. "Ranger Scout Hyperion Lee, at your service."

"Jaimie Moqena." She shook his hand with a friendly smile. "You can call me Jay."

Lee nodded and reached across her to her partner, who also shook his hand, this time with a traditional arm-to-elbow Mandalorian handshake. He nodded to the Ranger curtly.

"Cin Vhetin. _Beroya bal ori'ramikad_."

"_Olarom, vod._" Lee paused. "Vhetin, you said? That name is familiar…"

Vhetin's shoulders slumped a little. "Yeah, I'm the one who botched the Caranthyr counteroffensive six months ago. I've heard all the flak from that I can take about that, thanks."

"No, no. A friend of mine, Tamai, used to talk about you a lot. Spoke very highly of you. You know her?"

Jay could feel Vhetin tense up next to her, his right hand clenching into a tight fist. "You could say that," he murmured.

"Then I assume you know that she's MIA, then. Not much reason for you to be down here otherwise."

"Has there been any word?"

"Hers was the last patrol to go missing. She managed to rattle off some coordinates before she vanished, so we approximated her location and sent some teams to look for her."

"And?"

Lee grimaced looking down at his boots. "We, uh… found blood in the grass and signs of a struggle. Fingernail marks in the bark of the trees, like someone was dragged kicking and screaming up into the canopy. Apart from that, nothing."

Vhetin's body was as stiff as the Neo-Crusader statue now, but Jay knew better than to butt in. Her partner was in analysis mode now, gathering all the information he could to use later in the hunt. This may have been his friend, but Jay knew the only way any of them were going to find Tamai or her missing team was if they treated this like any other bounty hunting mission; Tamai was the target, and Vhetin himself was the client.

"Any suspected attackers? Jungle beasts capable of tearing apart an entire patrol team?"

Lee rubbed at the short stubble that dusted his jaw. "A pair of _Jai'galaar_ hawks, maybe. And there were unconfirmed, crazy reports of a rogue rancor in the area. But an animal attack would leave more traces: corpses, gear, footprints. All we found was blood and the scratch marks on the trees. Whatever attacked them, it was smart enough to take their bodies. And their weapons."

"So we're dealing with something sentient?"

Lee shook his head. "Officially, the position of the Rangers is that the so-called _Kar'ta Epar'e_ don't exist. They're myths told to keep treasure hunters from going off on suicide missions into the jungle."

"And what about unofficially?" Jay asked. "Off the record, from one private contractor to another."

Lee looked uncomfortable. "Unofficially, I think something's going on in that jungle that's scaring the shit out of me. And that in itself is cause for concern."

He looked over their small procession, obviously eager to change the subject. "When I heard _te Mand'alor_ was sending reinforcements, I kind of hoped there'd be more than a single ship of soldiers. Norac Benz and his men are impressive, sure, but…"

"The rest of the Berserker forces got held up in a thunderstorm to the north," Vhetin explained. "They were delayed, but should arrive in an hour or so."

"Too bad they're going to miss all the fun. The first expeditionary party heads into the trees in about two. They won't be offloaded in time to come with us."

"There's an expedition going out already?"

"Waste not," Vhonte Tervho said. She seemed to materialize out of thin air with a silent grace that reminded Jay of Vhetin's own stealth capabilities. "Ranger-Commander Che'daje is eager to find out what's been attacking our men. She's sending out a team as soon as we're settled. Her sister is the best scout they have, so she's leading the team. I'll be providing backup."

"Captain, I'd like to volunteer," Vhetin instantly said. "If there's a team going into the jungle, I won't sit by on my ass and wait for them to find something."

"I had a feeling you'd say that." Tervho nodded, then turned to Jay. "What about you? Are you up for a jungle slog, Miss Moqena?"

"I go where my partner goes," she dutifully replied.

Tervho nodded again, looking impressed. "All right, permission granted. Get your gear situated and get to your assignments. The scout team's briefing starts in an hour, in the arming station. The Ranger-Commander wants a few words with us before we start."

"Right," Jay said. She turned to her partner and said, "Are you sure you and Norac can play nice long enough for me to tour the outpost with Captain Tervho?"

"I'm not the one you should be worrying about," he replied. "I'll find out what miraculous story our survivor can give. If he saw Tamai, he's our best shot at finding her."

"Let me know what you find."

"_Ori'lek_," he confirmed, turning away. "I'll be in touch."

**~~~~~~~~**

**Primary Tactical Operations Hub, Outpost Aurek**

Jay had never seen a Cathar before. She'd heard of them of course, but somehow the concept of a completely feline humanoid had always been beyond the reach of her imagination. So it was quite the experience when Captain Tervho introduced her to Akh'shi Che'daje, Ranger-Commander of the local garrison. She was a little lost – not to mention intimidated.

Ranger-Commander Che'daje was of medium height and about the same build as the average Mandalorian woman. But unlike the Mando women Jay had seen around the post, the Ranger-Commander had light brown fur covering her entire face, with intricate, dark patterns adorning her cheeks and forehead. Large yellow eyes regarded her surroundings cautiously, with a sharp scrutiny that reminded Jay of several kinds of predatory birds. Her hair was dark brown and twisted into tight braids that hung down behind her otherwise short-furred head. Jay wondered how the woman could stand to live in the sweltering heat of the jungle with so much fur, but decided to keep such questions to herself.

Che'daje wasn't dressed like the other Rangers either; instead of traditional Mandalorian _beskar'gam_, the Ranger-Commander was clad in the distinctive thick armor plating of a Clone Wars-era Republic trooper, though the armor was painted in dark camouflage patterns rather than the traditional and iconic spotless white. She had a similarly-patterned clone trooper helmet tucked under one arm, though the helmet did sport the familiar flag-like rangefinder of a Mandalorian helmet.

Vhonte Tervho, standing slightly ahead of Jay, snapped a fist to her chest and bowed her head in salute; a rare display of respect when directed toward an _aruetii_. Jay absently wondered just what this Che'daje woman had done to warrant such honor from a veteran like Tervho. But she held her curiosity in check as the redhead in front of her straightened and said, "Captain Che'daje. It's an honor to finally meet you."

Che'daje nodded grimly, her lips pressed into a thin line. When she spoke, her voice carried a heavy accent that Jay couldn't quite place, thick and rolling until it sounded almost like a feline purr. "Likewise, Captain. Though I wish it were for different reason."

"Have there been any updates since my troops set out from Keldabe?"

"No. We've had no luck in reestablishing contact with the lost patrols. And the search teams we sent out are no closer to finding any survivors. However, there have been no further attacks since Ranger Vasser and her team went missing. So that's something to be thankful for."

Tervho nodded, frowning and rubbing her chin. After a moment, she turned and put a hand on Jay's shoulder, nudging her forward. "Allow me to introduce _beroya_ Moqena. She's operating as my aide for the time being."

Ranger-Commander Che'daje nodded and extended a clawed hand to her. Jay shook it, noting the soft feeling of fur under her fingertips.

"It's an honor," the Cathar said. "Though I must admit I am surprised to see another foreigner on this mission."

"My partner was a friend of Ranger Vasser's," Jay explained. "I wasn't going to let him come down here all on his own."

"Your dedication is commendable. I'll be glad to have you on the team."

Tervho cleared her throat, just loud enough to draw attention back to the matter at hand. "So what exactly is the situation down here? I must admit, my experience in the _Werda Kurs_ is limited."

Che'daje gestured for them to follow her to a holographic readout, which was showing a satellite map of the jungle. The Ranger-Commander typed a few hurried commands into the control console and the hologram flickered and transformed into a detailed topographical map.

"This is Aurek's area of operations within the _Werda Kurs_," she explained. She gestured to a fifty-mile half-circle into the jungle. At her command, four red dots scattered through the highlighted area began to pulse with light. "Within this area, we have four separate civilian settlements in the trees: fishing villages, hunting camps, and the like."

She highlighted two of them. "These two settlements – the fishing village and the logging site – are the strongholds of two clans of Mandalorians who've lived in the jungle outskirts for the last century. The other two villages are camps of farmers, mostly."

Tervho nodded, taking a step closer. "And the two clans? Which are they?"

"Clans Kelborn and Vasuur. They were among the first to report missing people, around six months ago."

Che'daje rested her hands on her hips. "We didn't take much notice because disappearances are not uncommon within the trees. There are all manner of beasts looking to make a meal out of even the most seasoned Ranger. It was only when our own people started going missing that we realized it was all connected. That was two months ago."

"And since then?"

"We've gotten no closer to finding out what's been attacking our people, but we have narrowed down the most active areas," she gestured again to the map and several areas of the jungle began to glow yellow. There were three areas, each around five to ten miles wide. Jay knew that the chances finding missing people in that large of an area were remote. "Here, here, and here."

"And the latest attack? Ranger Vasser's team?" Tervho stepped forward and rested her palms against the projector, studying the map intently.

"Here," Che'daje pointed out. "About three miles from the river. As you can see, the attacks are getting closer and closer to Aurek's position. Something is expanding its territory, seeking to drive us out."

"And your response?"

"We haven't had one yet, besides warning the locals not to go into the active zones. As long as they stay within Ranger territory, we can guarantee them protection. But once they cross into the active zones, they're on their own."

"Don't you think that's a little harsh?" Jay asked.

"It's a matter of necessity," Che'daje replied. "We don't have the men to spare for endless rescue teams, and almost every time we've sent patrols into the active zones they've gone missing. The locals know we can't protect them in there, so they usually give those areas a wide berth. Normally, we'd ignore the areas entirely, but as I said, the attacks are getting closer to Aurek's position."

She powered down the hologram and gestured for Tervho and Jay to follow. She led the two outside, where they passed by a thick knot of armored Rangers, no doubt gearing up for a patrol. Many of them were wearing thick cloth ponchos or hoods that covered their helmets; Jay had read during the trip that one of the greatest problems with jungle operations was the glare from a Mando's armor. To maintain stealth, many of the Rangers had to cover up their armor so they didn't risk giving their whole position away to some bloodthirsty beast.

"Now that we have support and supplies from Keldabe," Che'daje said as they passed the patrol, "we're organizing an expedition into the active zone to find our missing people. Before we were low on ammunition and rations, so we were restricted in what we could do. But now, with arms and ammo from MandalMotors, we'll have a better chance to survive the jungle and find out just what happened to our patrols."

"We have the support of Norac Benz and his berserkers," Tervho reassured her. "There are no better trackers on the planet."

"I hope you're right," Che'daje said as they passed a bustling warehouse. Jay glanced inside to see technicians hurrying to and fro, creating what looked like rudimentary defenses: welded plate palisades, defensive stakes, and thick, twisted scraps of metal that could easily be used as cover during a fight.

"Looks like you're gearing up for a war," Jay observed as they passed.

"We like to be prepared for anything."

Che'daje was about to say more when a deafening and terrifying roar cut her off. Jay jumped and covered her ears at the primal, animalistic bellow that split the air, echoing across the compound. She heard several people scream and technicians sprinted toward one corner of the warehouse, desperately trying to subdue whatever was causing the ruckus.

Another roar, though there was something different about it this time. It was almost… synthetic. Jay could hear a kind of mechanical warble behind the booming howl, not unlike the synthesized grate of D'harhan's cybernetic voice box.

Che'daje gestured to several technicians hurrying into the warehouse. "Get that place under control! The last thing we need is that _thing_ tearing up the outpost while we're gone!"

"Aye, ma'am!" one of the technicians said. They sprinted into the warehouse just as there was a massive crash and someone went flying across the room, accompanied by another blasting cry. Suddenly, there was a flash of light within the building and everything went instantly silent.

Jay was staring at the open warehouse, still trying to get a look at what had caused all the commotion. "That was… intense."

"Come on," Tervho murmured, taking her arm and leading her away.

"But what _was_ that?"

"It wasn't for your eyes to see," Tervho pressed. "Let it go."

Jay frowned, never happy to have to so casually brush her curiosity aside. But she reluctantly nodded and said, "Fine. I'll drop it. For now."

"Smart girl. We don't want to be stepping on anyone's toes here. This is the Rangers' show. That means we keep our hands in our pockets for as long as we're here. Got it?"

Jay rolled her eyes. "You sound like my mother."

"Do you understand?"

She quickly nodded, knowing when to back down. "Yes, Captain. I understand."

"Good. Now let's go."

**~~~~~~~~**

**Holding Cells**

Vhetin sighed, wishing he could rub his pounding temples through the thick metal of his helmet. "Sir, for the last time, you aren't a prisoner."

"Then why the fuck am I locked up in the holding cells? Behind _bars_?"

"Because," he said patiently, "you were caught sneaking away from the outpost on three separate occasions. Your information is too valuable to lose, even if you do think these _Kar'ta Epar'e_ are going to swoop in and kill us all."

Norac Benz, sprawled on a bench outside the man's holding cell, chuckled as he carved at a dark green fruit with his _beskar_ knife. "Have to give credit where it's due, though; if he managed to sneak out of this place three separate times, he's got a stronger survival instinct than those patrols that got nicked out in the jungle."

"Do you mind?" Vhetin said, his voice tight. "I'm trying to interview this guy."

"Doin' a bang-up job of it too. At this rate we'll have some useful intel out of him by the time _haran _freezes over."

"I'd let you take over, but I'm pretty sure you'd just beat him to a pulp and call it good."

Benz narrowed his eyes and pointed the blade of his dagger at Vhetin's helmet faceplate. "Criticize me all you want, kid, but don't try to deny that this whole exercise is a waste of time. This guy isn't going to do anything but babble on about the mythical Heart-Eaters and no amount of _interviewing_ is going to change that."

He sniffed and turned back to his fruit. "Besides, I'd only beat the pulp out of him if he was an _aruetii_. They're squeamish about that sort of thing."

Vhetin rolled his eyes, knowing Benz couldn't see it. "Your compassion simply astounds me."

"_Murcyur ner shebs, burc'ya._"

He turned back to the man in the holding cell and folded his arms across his chest. "Look, sir, we're in a dangerous position here. We need information on whatever it was that you saw in the jungle. Whatever attacked that Ranger patrol isn't going to stop. Your information can save lives."

"Kriff you and your lives," the man spat. "Let me out of this place, then we can talk."

"You know I can't do that."

"Then I guess we don't have anything more to say."

There was a sharp, metallic scrape as Benz drew his sword from its sheath. He reached over his shoulder and tapped the blade against the bars. The man's gaze instantly snapped to the weapon.

"See this?" Benz said. The man nodded, causing the Berserker to chuckle. "Good. 'Cause you won't here in a minute."

"W-why?"

"Because it'll be buried hilt-deep in your forehead, _di'kut."_

Benz grunted and rose to his feet, still tapping the blade against the bars. "Nice to see you can understand when you're being threatened."

"Y-you wouldn't. You _can't_."

"And why is that?"

"T-the Supercommando Codex! Mando's don't kill other Mandos. It's against the law!"

A sneer pulled at Benz's face and he pressed himself up against the bars. "You think me or my men obey your idiot Codex? My people don't follow Shysa's orders or his traditions. We live by our own code."

He raised the blade again. "And that code says we can do whatever we must to do what we're sent in to do. If that means sticking you like a Pora Boar, you can _bet _that I'll do it without a second thought."

There was a fire burning behind Benz's eyes that Vhetin didn't like. But his scare tactics seemed to be working; the man was glancing between them and wringing his hands. When Benz slid the blade through to the bars once again, the man sighed and threw himself into the cot next to the wall.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll… I'll tell you what I can."

Benz turned back to Vhetin and sheathed his sword with a haughty grin. "See? Told you I'd get it done."

"Yeah, yeah. Just… be all smug on your own. In the background, preferably."

Benz shook his head with a smile and returned to his seat without another word. Vhetin watched him for a moment, until he was sure the clanmaster wouldn't cause any more trouble. When Benz just shrugged and contented himself by inspecting the dirt under his fingernails, Vhetin turned back to the man in the cell.

"Tell me everything," he said. "Every detail."


	9. In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle

**Outpost Aurek**

"Drums? Are you sure?"

Vhetin nodded. "That was the only useful thing the man had to say. He claimed that every time these creatures attacked, he could hear war drums from the canopy."

Ranger-Commander Che'daje rubbed at her chin. "A scare tactic, perhaps. Psychological warfare intended to make our men slip up?"

Norac Benz chuckled. "Your men are pretty skittish if the sound of drums makes 'em wet their pants."

The Cathar ignored him. "If they're using war drums, it obviously means they're sentient. We'd considered the possibility, but we've never come across such a species in the jungle. If they're declaring war on us—"

"Maybe they're not," Benz interrupted with a shrug. Everyone looked to him, expecting an elaboration, and he raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What? It's possible."

"Do you have an idea?" Captain Tervho said. "Or do you just get off on contradicting people?"

"Communication," the Berserker clanmaster replied. He rapped his palms against the hard chest plates of his armor, hammering out a quick beat that sounded similar to _Dha Werda Verda_. He then shrugged again and said, "My people use it sometimes when we're hunting in the forests up north. Can't risk letting something know we're coming, so we use drum beats instead. That way, the prey doesn't know who or what is hunting it. It's an old Mandalorian practice called _dadita_."

Che'daje narrowed her eyes. "So you're saying these things are _hunting_ my men?"

"Looks like it, doesn't it? If you're at war, you leave the bodies out in the open – you're killing the enemy, and you want their allies to know just how well you're slaughtering them. But the fact that your Rangers haven't found any leftovers from battle suggests that these things have a different motive."

"Makes sense." Tervho nodded. "They're scavenging the dead. Taking their weapons, armor, and technology. Basic strategy when you're fighting a guerrilla war against a superior force, but don't want to be seen."

"I wouldn't go so far as to call the Rangers _superior_," Benz said with a haughty chuckle. He hooked his thumbs into the loops of his belt. "Seeing as how this Vasser girl and her team got torn to shreds in seconds. Idiot girl probably didn't even know what hit her."

"That's enough, Benz," Vhetin interjected harshly. "Show a little respect for the dead."

"The… the dead?" Jay murmured. "What do you mean?"

There was a hard steel in Vhetin's voice that she knew all too well. It was the tone he adopted when he'd been given bad news and was attempting to hide how much it had affected him. She'd only heard it in his voice once before: when he'd informed Jay that Brianna had left him. She had never seen her partner so upset, and her heart sunk with worry to hear such an air return to his voice now.

Her partner took a deep breath, his entire body tense and his clenched fists shaking dangerously.

"The survivor we interviewed… he said Tamai didn't make it. Said that one of these things attacked her and killed her. He said he heard her scream as he was running from the attack. Then nothing."

The Ranger-Commander folded her arms. "That doesn't mean anything. Maybe she fled or fought back."

Benz raised a skeptical eyebrow. "If that's true, why hasn't she regrouped with your Rangers? Why hasn't there been any contact? Face it, _aruetii_: she's dead just like all the rest of your men who went skipping off into the trees."

Tervho tapped her fist against his chest plate; an old Mando gesture for him to shut up. "Back off, Norac."

The Berserker clanmaster shrugged with a sneer at Che'daje. "Just so long as we're on the same page. The sooner you Rangers accept that your men are gone, the sooner you'll wise up and stop sending _more_ people into the jungle to look for them."

Tervho thumped her fist hard against Benz's chest plate now. "Norac! _Enough_."

Vhetin, meanwhile, had stepped away to stare out toward the perimeter fence, arms folded across his chest. Jay glanced at the others, then followed after him. She wrung her hands as she approached and looked out at the loud and chaotic treeline.

The conversation behind them seemed to fade out to a dull drone, and Jay could feel the tension radiating off of her partner's body. She usually knew better than to approach him when he was in such a state, especially since the last time he'd been so upset he had torn a heavy punching bag from its housing with a single punch. But if she were in her partner's shoes, the last thing she'd want to be is alone.

So she licked her lips nervously, then cleared her throat. "Hey… Are you okay?"

No answer.

"Cin… I'm so sorry. I didn't know Tamai, but I could tell how much she meant to you"

His shoulders slumped, but his voice was as hard as iron when he spoke again. "It doesn't matter. We still have a job to do."

"What?"

His voice broke, but only slightly. "We… we have to find whatever is attacking the patrols. We have to stop these _Kar'ta Epar'e_ before they kill others like they killed Tamai."

"Is it possible," she said slowly, "that she survived?"

He shrugged. "The Tamai I knew was strong and resourceful. If anyone could have survived, it's her. But… but Benz is right; if she made it out alive, she would have tried to link up with the rest of the Rangers and warn them about what's going on."

"You can't lose hope, Cin. Not when—"

"Jay," he interrupted, "I can see what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it. I really do. But chances are good we're never going to find Tamai. Every Ranger team before this has been decimated. Why should Tamai's group be any different?"

"Because… I don't know. Because she's your friend? You don't have a habit of befriending idiots, Cin."

His voice was little more than a whisper. "Can I… can I just have a moment? I'll rejoin you and the others by the time we're ready to head out."

Jay nodded and squeezed his shoulder. "All right. Just know I'm here if you need me."

He nodded bleakly. "Thanks, _vod'ika_."

He stepped away from her, heading off toward the center of Outpost Aurek. After a few moments, he ducked into the Ranger's barracks and didn't emerge again.

She sighed and turned away to rejoin the others, but instantly jumped back with a startled cry when she found a woman standing right behind her. The new woman watched her coldly with her arms folded across her armored chest. Her gear was a patchwork collection of camouflage-painted plates, leather pads, and ammunition belts, and a rough cloth turban covered her face. Through the short gap in the turban, she regarded Jay with cold yellow eyes – far too large to belong to a human.

The newcomer cocked her head, her voice muffled behind the cloth of her turban. Her voice carried a thick, slurred accent that was surprisingly similar to that of Ranger-Commander Che'daje.

"Who the kriff're you?"

Jay blinked, heart pounding as she panted, "I could ask the same of you."

"I'm not the newcomer," the other woman hissed. She looked Jay up and down. "And you are definitely not a Ranger. From the look of things, you're not even a Mandalorian."

Jay rested a hand on her hip, narrowing her eyes. "How can you tell? I'm wearing the armor."

"But you're very obviously not used to wearing it. You don't carry yourself like a _Mando'ad_."

She suddenly stepped forward and leaned close, those pale yellow eyes blazing. She sniffed the air next to Jay's cheek, once, twice, while Jay recoiled in surprise and discomfort.

"Hmm," the woman growled as she drew back. "You don't smell right either. Like soap and perfume. Too clean. Not enough sweat and blood in your scent."

Jay's lip curled. "That's… really creepy. Could you stop?"

Those large yellow eyes blinked slowly. "I'm not going to ask again: who are you?"

"I'm a member of the auxiliary reinforcements from Keldabe," Jay said. "Shysa sent us to help search for the missing patrols."

The woman laughed; a sharp, hissing sound. "Did he now? I should have known he wouldn't listen to me. We don't need your help, City Girl."

She hefted a large sword into her hands, cradling it like a mother would cradle her baby. "Want my advice? Stay out of that damned jungle. It's been the death of warriors far more experienced than you."

She sniffed the air again. "And rub some dirt in your hair or something. Your scent's too strong. It'll draw the echo snakes."

The woman turned to leave, but Jay called her attention back. "Wait! Just who are you? What makes you so special?"

The woman chuckled, turning that yellow gaze on her again.

"Hish'ka Che'daje," she introduced herself with a short and sarcastic bow. She placed her palm against her chest and lowered her head. "First Scout of the jungle patrols."

She straightened once more and threw the sword over her shoulder. "I'm the one in charge of finding the missing Rangers. I'm your tracker, and that means that when we head into the trees, I'm the one who's going to keep you alive."

~~~~~~~

**Later**

As soon as the Ranger-Commander gave the order, the search-and-rescue Rangers gathered in the main plaza of Aurek. They formed an orderly column in front of the great statue of the ancient Mandalorian, their spears and swords at the ready. The auxiliary forces assembled in a rough semi-circle behind them, with Norac Benz and his Berserkers prowling back and forth as they waited to get to work.

Vhetin and Jay stood near Captain Tervho, who was watching the proceedings with folded arms and an unreadable expression. The sluggish, humid jungle breeze tugged at Jay's hair, carrying with it the heady scent of fresh rain and untouched woodland.

Thunder rumbled high above and a few errant droplets of rain began to patter against her shoulders and forehead. The Rangers had informed them that a storm was moving in and would be upon them by nightfall. Despite this news, Ranger-Commander Che'daje had given the order for the search party to assemble for their final briefing before departure. More than just the search party showed up, though; many Rangers not selected for jungle patrols were also present, as were several Imperial representatives and several squads of stormtroopers.

No doubt they all felt a sort of camaraderie this far from civilization; the Rangers obviously knew each other very well and had to place their lives in others' hands on a daily basis. And the Imperials, though they had never had a stable relationship with the Mandalorian people, depended on them now for their very survival. That must have bred some sort of solidarity between them, however slight.

Akh'shi was pacing in front of the assembled search party – around twenty in all – with her arms hooked behind her back. Her sister, Hish'ka, stood nonchalantly at the head of the column, regarding all the soldiers with those fiery yellow eyes peeking out from behind her tightly-wrapped turban.

"I don't need to remind any of you what we're doing in the jungle," Akh'shi was saying as she paced. "Nor do I have to remind you how important our mission is. If we can't hold the border patrol, we may as well throw ourselves to the echo snakes right now."

She gestured to the column and the auxiliaries fidgeting behind it. "Assembled here are Rangers, Mountain Clan men, foreigners, and _Cuy'val Dar_. Men and woman from all walks of life. But today that doesn't matter. None of it matters."

She gestured to the distant tree line with an accusatory finger. "There is something out there in the jungle that thinks it can kill our people without consequence. That is more than just an offense to Mandalorians or _aruetiise_. That's an insult to the _Rangers,_ and that cannot stand. For three hundred years we've held our post here in Aurek. And I'll be damned before I let some jungle beast with half a brain muscle us out!"

The Rangers showed their agreement by pounding their fists against their chest plates. The resulting rumble drowned out the thunder overhead and Akh'shi nodded with a sharp-toothed grin. The Cathar soldier looked through the ranks of her men and continued.

"Now we're heading to the site of the nearest attack, where Ranger Vasser and her team went missing. Many of us knew Tamai personally; she was a talented scout and an exemplary Ranger. If she or any of her men are alive, it is our duty to find them. But priority one is figuring out just _what_ happened and who is responsible for these attacks. Am I understood?"

A single thump against the chest plates from her soldiers, signifying agreement.

"Good. Auxiliaries! You have any problem following the orders of an _aruetii_?"

Several of the Berserkers sneered at the Cathar or grumbled between them, but Norac Benz called from the front of the group and answered for them. "We're signed on to this mission, Fuzzy. We're loyal to the mission, even if we're not loyal to you."

"That'll have to do. Mount up and move out!"

The tight cluster of Rangers spun about-face and began marching toward the perimeter. Norac circled his fingers in the air and signaled for his own men to follow. Jay fidgeted nervously before she followed after them as she shouldered her loaned rifle – one of the few high-tech weapons the Rangers had to spare.

"So…" she murmured as she fell into step with the Rangers. "Are you as nervous as I am, Cin?"

Vhetin, walking at her shoulder, shrugged. "If I said yes, would it make you feel better?"

"I dunno. Maybe we can find out?"

"Then yes. I am. I haven't heard good things about this jungle, and the Ranger briefing didn't exactly set my mind at ease."

Jay could believe that. Before heading out, the Rangers had provided the newcomers with a briefing of the dangers the _Werda Kurs_ had to offer. It didn't paint a pretty picture: there were massive serpentine echo snakes prowling the waterways, packs of ravenous and venomous kalo wolves stalking the jungle floor, and _Jai'galaar_ shriek-hawks in the canopy. And those were just the most common threats. If these _Kar'ta Epar'e_ were as bad as everyone seemed to think, there was more in those jungles than even the Rangers knew.

She sighed. "Watch my back out there, yeah?"

"Always," her partner replied. "I came here to find a friend. I won't lose another in the process."

"Aww, so touching," Norac Benz said from ahead of them. He looked back over his shoulder with a sneer. "Just don't let this lovey-duvy partnerly devotion get in the way of our job. I don't intend to wind up in the belly of an echo snake just because you two are trying to dodge some fire."

"We may yet surprise you," Vhetin said.

"Yeah," Jay pitched in. "We've faced down Sith Lords, you know."

"Wow, so you've gone toe-to-toe with the Bathrobe Brigade. Good for you. But a Sith isn't a beast. A Sith is just a man with a glowing sword. He won't attack you with mindless abandon, won't pin you to the ground and tear you apart with claw and fang."

He traced a finger down a long and ropy scar that stretched behind one ear. "See this? Got it from a shriek-hawk while on a jungle run of my own a few years back. And that was way in the north, where the snows still come every winter and the people are as dangerous as the wildlife. The _Werda Kurs_ is a whole different _meshgeroya_ field entirely."

Jay scowled at the man. "I'll take my chances. I'm not the kind to back out on a contract. Not now."

"Hold on to that sentiment. See how long it lasts you."

"It'll last longer than you think," said a familiar voice to their right. Jay turned to see a familiar-looking suit of slate-gray armor. Ranger Lee hefted a heavy-looking spear over one shoulder and shot her a crooked grin. "Trust me. Sometimes the only reason a Ranger comes back from a patrol is because of the paycheck waiting at the end. You have even more than that."

He shrugged and waved a hand in Vhetin's direction. "Well, at least he does."

Norac sniffed, but said nothing, turning back to the path ahead. Lee made a face at the back of the Berserker's head and rolled his eyes. When Benz didn't move to respond, he glanced at Vhetin and Jay. "Don't worry about it, you two," he said. "The first jungle walk is always a breeze."

"I'll hold you to that," Vhetin said.

Their group finally reached the perimeter fence, where the duracrete buildings of Outpost Aurek sharply transformed into the untamed wilderness of the _Werda Kurs_. The massive perimeter wall towered over them, a giant dull gray barrier holding back the wilderness, topped with lines of razor wire. The Rangers manning the guard post on either side of the exit gate saluted to the search party as the jungle-bound Mandalorians passed through the gate. The held their hands over their hearts, then gestured to the passing soldiers with calls to their bretheren leaving for what could very well be the last time.

"_Oya, vode an," _they called.

"_Ni ke'gyce gar, oya'karir pirusti."_

"_Demagolka'e drar'cuyir darasuum."_

Jay leaned over to her partner and murmured, "What are they saying? I don't recognize some of the words."

He sighed and returned a curt nod to a guard that gestured to him. "They're giving us our orders. _I command you, hunt well. Even monsters aren't invincible_."

"Eerie." She shivered as she passed under the gate. One of the gate guards nodded to her and called out to her.

"Strength be with you, _aruetii._"

Then he was gone and she was swallowed up by the jungle. The ground dropped away from the sharp duracrete of the outpost and into the damp, soggy undergrowth of the _Werda Kurs_. She felt the atmosphere change almost the instant they passed into the shadow of the trees. The air was tense, carrying an almost audible hum over the breeze and the hooting calls of animals and birds. Shadows seemed to jump and twist around her like sinister puppets on strings. She found herself almost immediately wishing she could turn back.

In Outpost Aurek, it felt as if she were in a bubble under the sea; a precarious safe place in the middle of a vast and treacherous world she didn't know the first thing about. And now, willingly stepping out into the wilderness… it felt like popping that bubble.

Thunder cracked overhead again as they continued their march. It wasn't long before Outpost Aurek was lost from sight behind them, swallowed up by the jungle at their backs. Her world was overwhelmed by a jarring symphony of animal hoots, bird calls, rustling leaves, and groaning tree branches. Her surroundings transformed into a waving ocean of foliage; leaves, bushes, and grass all waving in the warm tropical wind. Bugs buzzed chaotically around her head and flocks of bright, multicolored birds raced through the branches of the canopy high above. She saw lizards resting lazily on the branches over her head while a quizzical monkey-like creature cocked its head from its perch on a tree stump as the Rangers passed.

She felt Vhetin's hand fall on her shoulder. "It's okay. I know it's kind of overwhelming at first."

A shaky laugh fell from her lips. "Am I that transparent?"

"No. Your eyes are the size of dinner plates, though."

"I can't help it. I'm a city girl at heart. All this… it's a little hard to swallow."

"You'll get used to it," Lee grinned at her. "We all do. Welcome to the jungle, City Girl."

~~~~~~~~

_ **Werda Kurs** _ **, undetermined location**

They marched at a brisk pace for just over two hours before stopping for a break. Jay could not be more thankful. She took pride in keeping herself in shape, but by the time they broke for rest and rehydration her legs were aching and her clothes were soaked with sweat. She thought hiking through the jungle to the attack site would be easy, especially given how slowly they had progressed, waiting for the Rangers at the front to hack a path through the foliage with their heavy _beskar_ blades. But as their group climbed steep rocky hills and waded through waist-high marshes, she began to realize that slow pace or not, she would be feeling this walk tomorrow morning.

Now her hair was plastered to her forehead and she was breathing in short gasps while she greedily gulped down her water rations. The other Mandalorians had broken up into rough groups – mostly Rangers with Rangers and Berserkers with Berserkers. Jay, as the only _aruetii _present, felt a little out of place and had found a secluded area near a rocky outcropping that served as a nice place to rest her weary legs.

_Damn my stupid sense of pride_, she thought as she continued to gulp at her water. '_I go where my partner goes…' I've got to learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes._

"Easy there," Lee piped up from his rocky resting place nearby. He had his spear cradled between his arms while he watched her, a humorous glint in his eye. "Don't want to down that water ration too quickly. Overhydration is almost as bad as dehydration out here."

"But it tastes _so good_…"

He laughed. "Always does after a long slog through the muck. How're you holding up?"

She glared at him. "Let's just say I've always taken public city transports for granted. How close are we to the attack site?"

"A good two hours of a hike yet."

"We're not even _halfway_?"

"Cheer up _aruetii_," he chuckled, tossing in the slur in such a way that it didn't sound quite like an insult. He spread his hands, gesturing to the jungle around them. "Just lose yourself in the beauty of nature and let it soothe your troubles away."

Jay swatted at the bite of a persistent pest that had been buzzing around her head for the past fifteen minutes. "Yeah. It's downright lovely."

"You're a city girl. City people can't appreciate nature the way we Rangers can."

"I'll take your word for it." She looked around, squinting through the sheen of sweat that hazed her vision. "Have you seen Vhetin anywhere? I lost him about a half-hour ago. I'm assuming he didn't fall behind."

Lee gestured vaguely to the front of the group, where Ranger-Commander Che'daje was debating with the other Rangers about the quickest route to the attack site. Her sister, the tracker Hish'ka, was standing at her shoulder, her sharp gold-hued eyes darting between Vhonte Tervho and Norac Benz.

Jay had learned only after their march began that the tracker had more than just her sword as a weapon; she had transformed the rough prosthetic that replaced her left hand into a lethal-looking bladed weapon, the fingertips of the mechanical appendage sharpened to razor points. Jay had watched the Cathar woman slash through the foliage with her fingers alone, tearing apart creeper vines and even tree branches with ease. Now she was sharpening those fingers with a handheld whetstone, the dull scrape of rock against metal echoing through the makeshift camp.

If Jay craned her neck, she could just make out Vhetin's dark armor at the head of the group. He was talking with one of the forward scouts and kept gesturing out into the jungle; arguing with them about whether to search for Tamai, no doubt.

Jay glanced back to Lee with a curious frown. "You… you don't really think Tamai is dead, do you?"

"Me?" Lee paused from his inspection of his spear's bladed tip. "No. I've known Tamai for a long time. Trained with her, fought with her. She's a good woman and an even better Ranger. I don't think anything in this jungle – from echo snakes to _Kar'ta Epar'e_ – could take her down."

He tapped his spear against the rock, the weapon letting out a dull _thud _as he did. "What about you?"

She shrugged, returning her water bottle to its place in her pack before she could drink any more. "I don't know her. I'm only here because it's important to my partner."

"That's a hell of a bond you two have. You two married yet?"

"What?" she sputtered. "W-what are you… _no_!"

"Oh, so it's like that," he grinned. "Have you even told him how you feel?"

Jay scowled at the man, blushing furiously and scolding herself for doing so. "Y-you don't have any idea what you're talking about. I have a boyfriend back in Keldabe, for your information. Cin's just a friend."

Lee cocked his head at her. "Then why the hell are you all the way down here? Seems more than just friendly concern."

"Because he… he needs me for things like this."

"Why?"

"He gets…" she sighed, running a hand through her sweaty hair. "He's not exactly a people person, all right? So sometimes he needs a cooler head with him to make sure he doesn't make a mess of things."

Lee snorted. "That's still no reason to cart your ass down to the bowels of the planet on the off chance that you find a missing scout who probably doesn't need rescuing in the first place."

"Look…" Jay shook her head, scowling at the ground at her feet. "Cin's given me a lot over the years. I owe him a lot. He's always been there for me when I needed him to be. What kind of friend would I be if I walked out on him now?"

Lee shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe you ought to try it sometime and see."

"What are you suggesting?"

Lee shrugged, staring off into the jungle. "We Rangers don't work with partners. Not for long, anyway. It's effective, but also dangerous. Eventually, partners begin to rely on each other a little too much. If you take one away, the other one crumbles. That's not efficient."

"But the whole point of having a partner is making it so that one doesn't _have_ to be taken away."

Lee smiled, a little sadly. "That's not always up to you."

Jay was about to say more when a shout rang through the trees. Everyone present looked up at the sound. In the minutes since their break, the jungle around them seemed to have grown unsettlingly quiet. Even the leaves seemed to have stopped rustling.

"Perimeter trackers," Tervho called, her voice calm but with a steady not of caution. "You got anything on the motion scanners?"

"Nothing, Captain," came the dutiful response.

Jay reached over and grabbed her rifle, staring in the direction of the cry. "Then what was that?"

Another cry, this time met with the crash of branches and twigs snapping. Something was smashing through the trees not far from camp. Something big.

"I don't know," Lee said, grabbing his helmet from the rock next to him and securing it over his head. "But it doesn't sound friendly."

"Sound off!" Akh'shi Che'daje said, pulling on her trooper helmet. "I want IFFs on my display ASAP! Show me who's screaming!"

Weapons were instantly raised across the makeshift camp. The Berserkers hefted their heavy _beskar_ shields while the Rangers leveled their varied swords, spears, and rifles in the direction of the commotion. Jay pulled her own scaled-down Mando helmet over her eyes and watched the HUD light up the jungle around her. Tiny green diamonds sprang to life over the heads of all nearby friendlies; a little over twenty in all.

But one diamond showed up outside of camp, in the trees: Chi'tairo Kamashi was the Ranger's name. His diamond was flickering yellow, showing that he was fighting with someone. Another scream rang out from the bushes, followed by a massive and unearthly screech that made Jay double up and cover the audio receptors over her ears.

"Shit," she heard the Ranger-Commander say. She broke into a jog, drawing her sword from her belt. "Fan out! You know the drill! Keep those swords up and get ready to move! _Now!"_

"What?" Jay asked as the Rangers burst into action all around her. The Berserkers looked to Norac Benz for guidance, but the clanmaster just signaled them to be ready. Jay felt strong hands grab her arm, looked over to see Lee pulling her toward the nearest tree. "What? What is it?"

He grimaced and pulled his spear tight to his chest, motioning for her to fall into place at his side.

"Echo snake."

Jay's eyes snapped back to Kamashi's IFF in the trees just in time to see it rip to one side, far too fast for him to be running. The motion was met with a tortured scream from the bushes, then the flashing yellow diamond was yanked the opposite direction. Then it reared up into the sky while Kamashi's screams pierced the jungle air.

"Come on," she heard Lee murmur, "come on, we can't just leave him there."

All eyes were on Ranger-Commander Akh'shi, who was staring into the trees with her sword held in a steady two-handed grip. Jay knew that it would take her signal for the Rangers to attack. Norac Benz paced behind her, battleaxe in hand and one fist raised to give his own signal to the Berserkers.

Her signal never came; seconds later, Kamashi's blue-green form erupted from the bushes, propelled through the air by a monster the likes of which Jay had never seen.

It was a massive serpent, easily the length of a starship. It was colored a mottled brownish-white and spiny fins rippled along its scaly back. But where a normal snake's eyes would be, this creature only had fleshy mounds where eyes used to be, like they had sunk deep into its head and grown over. It was holding the flailing Ranger in its powerful jaws, tossing its head back and forth like a Kath hound with a piece of meat.

The Ranger-Commander struck, sprinting forward and stabbing her sword deep into the beast's scaly neck. The creature reared back, tossing the helpless Ranger through the air as it let out a warbling, clicking screech. Kamashi flew through the air and slammed hard into the trunk of a tree before crumpling to the ground. On her head's up display, Jay saw his heart rate flat-line.

Jay raised her rifle to shoot, but Lee shoved it down and threw an arm out in front of her.

"Stay back!" he shouted over the din while Ranger-Commander Che'daje ripped her sword free and stabbed again. "No guns! These things hunt by sound. You shoot, and it instantly has a bead on you."

The echo snake let out a series of deep and resounding clicks, raking its nonexistent gaze over the area. The Rangers rushed forward before it could attack again, thrusting their spears in its face and shouting. The din of screeching and screaming was overwhelming, but thankfully it seemed to be confusing the beast; it didn't know where to attack first.

"Drive it back!" Ranger-Commander Che'daje shouted, yanking her bloodied sword free and falling back before the echo snake could strike at her. "Back toward the river!"

The massive serpent had other ideas. With a screech, it lunged forward and captured a Ranger in its powerful jaws, roiling on the ground as it threw its massive coils around the man's body. It began to squeeze, the muscular brown-white body curling around the Ranger's armor with steadily-increasing pressure. The man caught in its clutches choked and squeezed his eyes shut as the serpent squeezed harder and harder.

"Shit," Lee muttered, then sprinted forward to help his compatriots. Jay was left standing helplessly to watch, at least until Norac Benz appeared to her left and tossed her a heavy battleaxe. Her rifle clattered, forgotten, to the ground next to her.

"What're you waiting for?" the man roared. "Get in there and help kill the monster!"

He turned to his men and gestured at the snake, roaring, "_Akaanir!"_

At his command, the Berserkers charged forward with a bloodthirsty battle cry. The echo snake looked up at the sound and made another warbling series of clicks and chatters with its tongue. Then it released the Ranger and slithered through the ground, pouncing on Norac Benz as soon as it was close enough.

But the clanmaster would not be made a meal so easily. Before the serpent could wrap around him like it had done before, he slashed with his massive two-handed battleaxe, carving deep into the echo snake's scaly hide. Dark black-red blood sprayed from the wound and Benz' Berserkers let out a triumphant roar to support their leader. One of the Berserkers rushed forward with an overzealous attack and the serpent whirled to face him. It struck blindingly fast, sinking its fangs deep into the spaces between the Berserker's armor. The man shouted and staggered back, but the snake struck again and he fell with part of his arm missing.

The echo snake reared as the rest of the Berserkers rushed to help their comrade. Norac Benz hurled his battleaxe through the air, the head of the weapon embedding itself in the snake's belly. Two other Berserkers charged forward and began hacking away with swords and axes, raising their shields to avoid the serpent's powerful bites or angry swipes from its scaly, armored tail.

The Rangers took the time to regroup, dragging their wounded away. The echo snake seemed fixed on the shouting and shield-pounding Berserkers, so Jay took advantage of the chaos to sprint forward and join the fray.

She didn't make it far before a hand roughly grabbed her shoulder. She turned to find Vhetin holding her back.

"What do you think you're doing?" he shouted over the commotion.

"What do you think?" she shouted back, yanking her arm from his grip. "I'm trying to help!"

"Don't be stupid. This is too dangerous for you Jay."

"Bullshit!" she shot back. "I'm not going to stand on the sidelines while you risk your lives!"

He looked like he wanted to debate the matter with her, but he obviously knew it was not the time nor the place. Eventually his shoulders slumped. With a muttered string of curses in _Mando'a,_ he reached behind his back and pulled something from his belt.

"Fine," he snapped. "But if we're going to do this, we do it my way."

He held out his hand. Resting in his palm was a smooth, cylindrical hilt of polished durasteel. Buttons and status lights were scattered across the device, and several intricate runes were carved into the leather handgrip.

Jay's eyes widened as she reached out and took the weapon from her partner's grasp. "Are… are you sure about this?"

He nodded, grabbing his pike from the sling across his back. "I guess I'll have to be. Now let's kill this thing before it manages to slither away."

She pressed the activation key on the side of the hilt and a pulsing blue bar of plasma erupted from the emitter with a very familiar-sounding _snap-hiss_.

"Just do me a favor," Vhetin said, activating his own lightsaber pike with a flourish. "Don't lop your own head off. I trained you better than that. I'd never live it down."

Then he charged after the others. Jay took one more moment to stare at the weapon in her hands, then sprinted after him.

The echo snake was even bigger up close. It towered over her, flailing and hissing at the assembled warriors trying to bring it down. It was bleeding from what looked like a hundred different wounds on its face and body, but it seemed no closer to falling than when it first emerged from the foliage.

Its tail whipped out and caught a Berserker in the chest, sending him tumbling head-over-heels through the grass until he fell and did not rise again. Another Berserker was caught in the serpent's tooth-studded maw and lifted bodily into the air. The snake bit down once, hard, and Jay heard the sickening crunch of bones. Norac Benz roared and smashed his battleaxe against the snake's armored belly and the dead Berserker fell limp from the beast's jaws.

Vhetin sprinted forward, leaping over a strike from the creature's tail. He pivoted as the tail struck again, then swung his pike down and severed the appendage in a single clean stroke. The lightsaber blade hissed with a shower of sparks as it carved effortlessly through the echo snake's armored hide. The cauterized stump of the tail fell to the jungle floor, still twitching and smoldering. High above, the serpent reared and screeched, its sightless head cuing in on the telltale hum of Vhetin's lightsaber.

Jay struck while its attention was diverted, swinging her own saber like a bat and carving away a deep furrow of armor with the stroke. She pivoted on one foot and stabbed the blade forward, sinking it hilt-deep into the echo snake's side. The snake recoiled and Jay ripped the blade free before it could attack her. Massive jaws snapped shut where she had just been standing and she hopped away before bringing her weapon down in a powerful two-handed blow across the creature's snout. There was a shower of sparks and the snake recoiled, a smoking black scar now marring its mottled white nose.

"That's the way!" Norac Benz bellowed, crashing his axe against the surface of his shield. The snake instantly snapped at him with a vengeful hiss, but he threw his shield up and the snake's teeth only scraped against the metal surface of the barrier. Benz shoved forward, smashing the hard surface of his shield into the serpent's nose, then swung his axe in a vicious uppercut that sunk into the underside of the chin.

The Rangers were rushing again, pinning the snake in from the rear. With its tail severed and its attention focused on the warriors in front of it, it had nowhere left to go. It let out a high-pitched shriek as the Rangers slashed and stabbed at it from behind, rearing back and coiling around itself defensively. Jay spotted the turbaned figure of Hish'ka Che'daje opening fire on the creature with two heavy combat pistols while her sister stabbed her sword deep into the beast's back and dragged it down in a torturously long slash.

"We have it on the defensive!" Vhonte Tervho shouted, ducking a bite at her shoulder before firing a full magazine at point-blank range into the echo snake's open maw. The beast slithered back, knocking over a group of Rangers as it frantically tried to retreat.

"To the river!" Ranger-Commander Che'daje shouted. "Drive it back to the river!"

Jay hadn't even known they were near a river, but the Rangers obviously knew the terrain far better than she did. They all regrouped to one side of the snake, thrusting at it with their weapons and pushing it deeper into the forest. The Berserkers quickly caught on and joined them, herding the beast away. The giant reptile hissed and snapped at anyone that was nearest, its cauterized stump of a tail lashing through the undergrowth.

But it was falling back. Slowly and surely, the bleeding and wounded monster was retreating toward the safety of the river. Jay could see it now; a large waterway that peeked through the trees behind the roiling coils of the snake.

The echo snake had one last trick up its sleeve, though. It struck, fast and low, and snatched one of the attacking warriors by the leg before slithering back as fast as it could, determined to get at least one meal from the attack. Rangers and Berserkers both tried to grab at the man's arms, but he was yanked away too quickly.

It was only when Jay saw familiar black-gray armor and a lightsaber pike falling from the man's grasp that she realized just who was being taken.

"Cin!" she screamed, sprinting after her partner.

He was struggling and shouting as the beast dragged him through the foliage, but the echo snake's hold on his leg would not loosen. Without his lightsaber, he was all but defenseless against the gigantic beast.

_I have to get in there_, she thought as her feet carried her through the muck after the creature. _I can't lose him. Have to do something that will—_

Someone strong caught her around the waist, pulling her back. She heard Norac Benz's rough voice growl in her ear, "Leave it, girl. If it's got a decent meal, it won't come after us for days at least. A week even if it has to digest all that armor."

"That's my partner!" she shouted, struggling against his iron grip. "Let me go!"

"Stay with the group," Benz hissed. "And maybe you won't get—"

She didn't let him finish, twisting in his grasp and punching the Berserker square in the nose. His head flew back and his grip loosened; more from surprise than anything else. Jay took advantage of his distraction to rip free and sprint after the beast, deactivating the lightsaber in her hands and drawing her pistol instead.

As soon as she was close enough, she leveled her weapon and fired at the creature's head. Her aim was as true as it always was, and the bright yellow blaster bolt exploded against one of the creature's vestigial eyes. It flinched and released Vhetin, spreading its jaws and letting out a deafening, screeching hiss. Vhetin tried to crawl away, his left leg soaked with blood, but the snake quickly caught him, latching onto his shoulder to pull him upright before wrapping tightly around him.

Jay fired again and her bolt popped against the echo snake's throat. It shrieked at her again but didn't release her partner, as if daring her to make another move.

The others had caught up to her now, but were wisely keeping their distance. The echo snake was fixated on Jay, its tongue lashing the air as it released another series of sharp clicks, using the sound to sense her location. Jay stepped slowly to the side, her aim never leaving the beast's head.

"Let him go!" she shouted, though she knew the serpent wouldn't understand her. A vicious hiss was the only response she received.

She fired three more times, hitting her target in the face, nose, and neck. It shook its scaly head, more irritated than hurt. Vhetin groaned as it began to squeeze around him tighter and tighter, cutting off his airflow. He was almost lost from sight amid the massive coils of the snake's body.

Jay was at a loss; her pistol was all but useless, and she couldn't attack the creature head-on without it killing her partner. There was no way she could safely free Cin without getting herself or the both of them killed in the process. She glanced back at the group. Ranger Lee only shrugged helplessly; he was just as lost as she was.

But before she could decide her next course of action, a voice rang out from the treetops.

"Keep it distracted! I'll finish it off!"

The snake instantly spun toward the sound. Jay hesitated for a fraction of a second, also looking for the source of the call. But she quickly tossed aside her curiosity and opened up with her pistol again. "Hey! Hey, over here!"

The giant serpent was drawn to the sound and its nonexistent gaze found her once more. It bobbed its head back and forth, no doubt preparing to strike. Jay took a cautious step back and rested her weight on her rear foot, ready to jump away at a moment's notice. On a tree branch high above the beast, she saw a dark figure creeping from the foliage until it was almost directly over the snake's head.

She had to hold its attention for a few seconds more. She had to give this mysterious newcomer time to get ready. She gritted her teeth and fired at the snake again, watching her blaster bolt pop harmlessly against its thick hide. But her attack had the desired effect; the snake finally lunged at her, teeth that were half the length of her arm snapping shut only inches from her shoulder.

The figure in the trees sprang into action and leaped out into open air. Jay saw the orange flame of the jungle sunset glint off the blade of a drawn sword. The new figure plummeted through the air before landing hard just behind the snake's head, using the momentum of the fall to sink her sword deep into the beast's skull. The snake stiffened, jaw stretching wide as if in shock. Then a great shudder went through its body and it fell to the ground with a heavy _thud_, its tightly-wound coils going slack. A slow hiss escaped its mouth before it fell still, its severed tail twitching sluggishly.

Vhetin fell free of the creature's embrace, falling to the ground with a desperate gasp for air. He quickly scrambled away from the body, letting out a string of curses in Basic, _Mando'a_, and even Huttese. He tried to rise to his feet, but collapsed into the muck again.

Jay was instantly at his side. She put a hand on his shoulder and rolled him onto his back.

"Are you all right?"

He threw her a weak thumbs-up and managed to choke out, "Never been better…"

He groaned and held his side, but a quick examination showed that he wasn't badly hurt; even his cut and bleeding leg was in passable condition. A few bandages and he would be as good as new. She squeeze his shoulder and grinned in both relief and jubilation.

"You'll be okay," she reassured him. "I'm not going to let you go and get eaten _that_ easily."

"Trust me," he grunted, rolling over and rising to his hands and knees, "that wasn't in my playbook. Stupid kriffing _schutta_ caught me by surprise, hitting me that low."

She helped the bulky Mandalorian back to his feet before turning back to their mysterious savior. A _massive_ thank you was in order.

It was a woman, standing with one boot on the echo snake's head while she wrenched her blood-soaked sword free. Her armor was dinged and pockmarked by years of weathering, and almost every inch of it was smeared with mud, blood, or leaves and other jungle debris. The few patches of her armor that were free of such grime were painted a deep blue, with dull yellow shoulder pads and knee plates. A thick cloth poncho was wrapped around her shoulders, though it was dirty, stained, and torn. Blood soaked her left arm and there was a fresh slash wound down her side that was still bleeding.

She was breathing hard, struggling to catch her breath after her fall and she quickly ripped off her helmet, releasing a cascade of dirty blond hair. Like the rest of her armor, her face was smeared with mud, though this time it looked deliberate – concentrated around her eyes until it looked more like war paint.

"You should thank her," she said. "That woman just saved your life."

She hauled her partner up from the ground, scraping mud from his armor. The other members of the patrol were similarly recuperating from the Echo Serpent attack, helping the wounded and setting up a perimeter while they had the chance. Hish'ka Che'daje was walking throughout the group, checking on everyone. Vhetin, though, had eyes only for their mysterious savior.

"I don't believe it," she heard him mutter. His hands were hanging limp at his sides.

The woman was similarly affected. She had finally turned away from the corpse of the echo snake, but as soon as she saw Vhetin's black-gray armor her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She slowly straightened, sheathing her sword. Her voice quivered as she whispered, "Is it... no, no it can't be."

She suddenly scooped up her helmet and stalked away into the brush without another word. Vhetin started and reached after her. "Wait! Don't go!"

To Jay's surprise, he jogged after her into the underbrush. She glanced back at the others, making sure they weren't going to be moving any time soon, then cursed and ran after her partner. The jungle was no place to wander alone; the echo snake attack had only proved that. She ducked under a low-hanging tree branch and disappeared into the jungle in search of the black-armored Mandalorian. She caught sight of him just ahead, struggling through the undergrowth in pursuit of the blue-armored woman.

"Cin, slow down."

He didn't listen to her. He just ran faster and called, "Hold on a second!"

After a few terse and uncomfortable moments of trekking, he almost caught up to her in a small clearing. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder when she suddenly wheeled and punched him hard in the throat. He let out a shocked gurgle and sank to his knees, clutching at his neck. She followed up with a knee to the helmet faceplate, a blow that knocked him to the jungle floor.

The blond woman placed her boot on his neck and bent over him, face pulled down in a furious scowl. "What the bloody hell are _you _doing here?"

Vhetin's response was too strangled for Jay to make out, but the woman scowled even deeper. "I don't need your help! Go back to camp, get back on your ship, and go back to Keldabe before I have to snap your neck like you deserve."

Jay had heard enough. She drew her pistol and sighted in on the woman. "Get off my partner, lady. I'm not going to ask twice."

The blond woman held up a single finger, signaling her to wait. She glanced at Jay and said, "I'll deal with you in a second."

Jay lowered her sidearm, taken aback by her reaction. She couldn't help but hesitate; of all the responses to being held at gunpoint, this one was new. Unsure what to do next, she was forced to simply watch as the woman crouched over her partner again and hissed, "What, you thought I wouldn't recognize you just because you repainted your armor? Covering up with black and gray isn't enough to hide you from me, _Cin_."

"Repainted?" Jay couldn't stop herself from asking. "He hasn't repainted his armor."

The woman pointed at her again. "What did I say? Step back, shut up, and let me talk to my friend."

"Your friend?" Jay scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies."

"Kriff off, _aruetii_," the woman sneered. "The big kids are talking now."

She turned back to Vhetin, stared at him for a few moments, then finally released her hold on his throat. She stepped back and folded her arms across her mud-streaked blue-gray armor. "So what the fuck-_shab_ are you doing down here?"

Vhetin clambered onto all fours, massaging his throat. "I heard... you had gone missing in the forests. I didn't like the information I was told. I decided to come help out…"

"Oh, so _now_ you decide to come rescue the damsel in distress?" the woman snarled. "Like I said, I don't want your help!"

"I know," he said, finally getting to his feet again. "You made that… abundantly clear. But _I_ decided to come down here. I... I was worried about you."

She threw her head back and laughed. "_You_? I thought we went decided to go our separate ways? What was it, four years ago? Five? I believe your exact words were, _It's better if we don't see each other again._ But then you get _worried_ about me and come rushing to help? Kriff you, Cin. And kriff Brianna too, while you're at it."

"Look," Jay said, taking a step toward her, "we're not here to-"

The woman whirled on her and lashed out with a devastating punch that caught Jay square in the nose. Jay cried out, falling onto her back and clutching her face. Through watering eyes, she saw Vhetin erupt into a blur of motion. He leaped forward and grabbed the woman's gun arm, twisting it painfully behind her back. The blond woman let out a grunt of pain and Jay heard Vhetin hiss, "Don't you _dare_ do that again."

"So the plot thickens," she hissed. "Who's the new girl?"

"My partner," Vhetin said tersely, not releasing her arm.

That seemed to take the woman by surprise. She blinked a few times, then said, "So... you're partnering up with people now?"

"That's right," Vhetin said. "And if you lay a hand on her again, I swear I'll break your arm. Then I'll probably shoot you. "

The woman hesitated. Then she slowly nodded. "All right, deal. Don't touch the new girl."

Vhetin stared at her for a few moments, then nodded and released the woman's arm. She quickly stepped out of his reach, rubbing her twisted shoulder while continuing to glare at him. "You really came all this way just to find me?"

"The jungle is dangerous," Vhetin said, rubbing his throat. "And the reports coming back from the Rangers didn't exactly leave me with much optimism."

"You never had much optimism to begin with."

Jay rose to her feet again, rubbing her aching nose. "So… everything's good? No more punching?"

"No more punching," the woman sighed. She glanced at Vhetin and jerked her heat in jay's direction. "You going to introduce us, or do I have to do it myself?"

Vhetin nodded. "This is Jay Moqena, a fellow bounty hunter. I trained her, and we've been working together for about a year and a half now. I trust her with my life."

Somehow, Jay got the feeling that the last part was more a title than a fun fact. Mandalorians were slow to trust, and such a display of bonding was no doubt very important. She found herself blushing a little at the praise.

Vhetin gestured to the muddy blue-armored woman. "Jay, allow me to introduce Ranger Scout Tamai Vasser, hero of the Vertaichen Seige and niece of _Mand'alor_ Shysa. We go way back."

Jay nodded, her nose still a little too sore for her to be too friendly with the newcomer. "And by _way back_, you mean…"

"We used to be a thing," Vasser said brusquely. "A long time ago. Past is the past and all that."

She hesitated before she held out a hand. "It's… interesting to meet you, Miss Moqena. Stripes isn't much for partnerships. It says a great deal about you."

"Thank you. It's good to find you alive. The stories the Rangers tell weren't all that positive."

"There isn't much that's positive in this jungle," Vasser growled.

"And just what happened to you?" Vhetin pressed. "We picked up a hunter in the jungle. He was frantic, terrified. But he said he saw your team get attacked."

"That yellow-pants son of a bitch made it back alive?" Tamai scoffed, rolling her eyes. "_Te jate'kara_ are strange indeed…"

She sighed and rubbed at her weary eyes, then reached down and secured her mud-splattered helmet back over her head. "Take me to whoever's in charge of this expedition. I have intel they're gonna need."

~~~~~~~~

"Ranger Vasser," Akh'shi Che'daje said as they returned to the group. "Word was you were dead. I should have had faith you were tougher than that."

"With respect, Ranger-Commander," Tamai said, "yes you should have."

"So what happened?" Tervho inquired. Her arms were folded across her chest and her long red hair was stirred slightly by the tepid jungle wind. "You aren't with the rest of your team. I can only assume…"

Tamai's shoulders slumped, though her helmet betrayed no emotion. Knowing her, she probably wanted it that way. She folded her hands in front of her. "They're all dead. Killed by those… those creatures in the trees."

Vhetin felt his heart sink at the news. Tamai had always treated relations with her fellow warriors with the utmost respect and importance. To lose them in such a fashion must have been devastating.

"So it's true?" Tervho pressed. "You were attacked by these _Kar'ta-Epar'e_?"

"I… can't say. It was dark and storming. Visibility was low. I couldn't see what was attacking us."

"That's no help," Hish'ka said through the cloth of her turban. Her eyes were cold, showing no sign of welcome toward Tamai. "We need something; their armaments, physical makeup, tactics, _anything_."

"They were… they were big," Tamai said. "Six feet at the shortest. But most were lanky; they're runners, built to be quick rather than overwhelmingly strong. They travel using the trees and only descend to the forest floor to attack. They have yellow eyes with enhanced binocular night vision and they wear their hair in dreadlocks."

"And their weaponry?"

"Swords and spears from what I could see. But bow sets – recurve and rudimentary compound – aren't out of the question. Nothing I saw suggested they have blasters."

"And thanks to your undersupplied Rangers," Norac Benz drawled from his position lazing against a tree trunk some distance away, "they still don't have any."

"Way to look on the bright side, Norac," Tervho scowled.

"And there was no reason for the attack? No demands?"

Tamai shook her head. "I'm not sure these things speak Basic. If they do, they didn't deign to speak to me. They just… killed everything in sight. They were tracking that coward hunter. Killed his team just like they killed mine."

"That would support our earlier theories," the Ranger-Commander said. "If they're as territorial as we believe, they could be acting out of defense."

"Makes sense," Tamai grunted. "Don't really care. I owe it to my men to take _gra'tua _for their deaths. I owe my soldiers six scalps, whether the beasts are _Kar'ta Epar'e_ or not."

Tracker Che'daje bowed her head. "An honorable pursuit."

"These things," Tamai said, "they're more than just beasts. They're smart and they're angry. They kill without hesitation or remorse. And they're more than capable of taking down entire groups of Mandalorians with ease."

"So," the Ranger-Commander said slowly, "just how did you escape?"

Tamai raised her arm and with a flick of her wrist ejected a hand-length dagger from the housing of her right gauntlet. It wasn't dissimilar to Vhetin's own gauntlet blades, though this was rough and looked like it was self-made; definitely not MandalMotors craftsmanship.

Tamai raised the blade. "These things are savage, but I still have a few tricks of my own. I stabbed my attacker under the ribs and he went down. They're tough, but they're not invincible. After that, I ran as far and as fast as I could. Smeared my body and armor with mud to mask my scent and have been keeping on the run ever since. I didn't know I was so close to Ranger bases until I ran across a Kelborn patrol yesterday."

"The Kelborns are out and about?" Hish'ka said, raising an eyebrow. "Surprising. They've reported more missing people than anyone else the past few months."

"And they're pissed about it. They're saying the same thing as you, though: _Kar'ta Epar'e_."

"Well," the Ranger Commander said, "until we know better, let's assume that's what they are."

Norac Benz chuckled from his tree stump but said nothing. Tervho glanced at him warningly, then said, "So what did the Kelborns have to say?"

"They know this jungle better than anyone and even they haven't seen the _Kar'ta Epar'e _before. The legends have always floated around, of course, but it's always been local myth. They're determined to find out what's going on."

Jay nudged Vhetin's arm and murmured, "Potential allies? I've heard good things about these Kelborns."

"The Kelborns are staunchly isolationist, even when dealing with other Mandos" Vhetin said. "I doubt we'll find any help from them."

Meanwhile, Tamai continued, "The Kelborns pointed me toward Aurek and I've been making my way back ever since."

"It's been almost a week."

Tama shook her head. "This jungle isn't exactly travel-friendly. And I had to take it slow; I'm pretty sure the _Kar'ta Epar'e _were following me."

Tervho raised an eyebrow. "You're sure?"

Tamai gestured to the jungle around them. "According to the Kelborns I met," she said, "all of this is their territory now."

"Shit," the Ranger-Commander hissed. "Then they're expanding their territory faster than we thought. That makes our mission all the more important."

"Our mission?" Tervho said. "I thought our mission was to find the missing teams."

"And you found them," Tamai said, gesturing to herself. "The _Kar'ta Epar'e_ don't leave survivors. You won't be finding those other teams."

"Then our mission has changed," Hish'ka Che'daje said. She adjusted her heavy turban before folding her arms. "New priority transmission from Shysa. We're to make contact with the _Kar'ta Epar'e_ and attempt to negotiate peace."

"Peace? Odd order considering these things have been killing our men."

"If these things are as skilled as you say, Ranger Vasser," Akh'shi Che'daje said, folding her camouflage-painted arms, "then we don't have the men or firepower to hold them back. We need to find out why they're so aggressive with us and attempt to get them to calm down."

"An ambitious plan," Benz said. "I'd just kill 'em all myself. And I get the feeling our prodigal Ranger shares that sentiment."

Tamai nodded. "These things aren't exactly negotiators, Commander. They don't care about us and they don't care for our reasons for being here. They just kill. They'll do the same to you, and the Rangers can't afford to lose your leadership."

"The Rangers will endure as they always have," the Ranger-Commander said dismissively. "It's our way. But these things represent the greatest threat to the _Werda Kurs_ outposts that we've ever seen. If they sweep over Aurek, how long before Dorn or Xesh outposts fall too? How long before the Kelborns and the Vasuur and all the locals are left alone? We can't let that happen."

She glared at the assembled men and women. "Shysa is right. We _need_ to make peace."

"That's all well and good," Benz said, "but in the meantime, we have the dead and wounded to take care of. I lost three men fighting that big-ass snake and I don't have any inclination to lose more."

The Ranger-Commander nodded. "Set up camp for the night. We'll cross the river tomorrow at first light."


	10. Funeral Pyres

Jay had settled in for an uncomfortable evening. The rain had finally begun to fall, turning the loose dirt of the jungle floor to a thick coat of mud. The only dry spaces were the areas covered by a thick canopy of branches or the tents propped against the gnarled trunks of trees – which had been thoroughly searched by the Rangers beforehand, with claims that the roots could actually be a chameleon-like creature known for ensnaring uanware prey while they slept. Armed with such knowledge, Jay felt less inclined than ever to go to sleep. But after the chaotic events of the day she found herself needing sleep more than usual.

Under normal circumstances, she would have preferred one of the tents set up on flatter ground. But it seemed Mandalorians were territorial with their sleeping arrangements, and most of the Berserkers seemed more than happy to attack an _aruetii_ for rights to prime sleeping space. Jay knew she would lose such a fight, so she simply opted for one of the uncomfortable tents.

She had turned in for the night some time ago, tired of being scrutinized under Norac Benz' condescending gaze. She soon found the tent wasn't much of a reprieve. Her shelter was tight and uncomfortable, with gnarled tree roots pressing awkwardly into her back and the flimsy tent walls bucking wildly in the cool night breeze. There were worse conditions to try and sleep in, but not many. Yet as uncomfortable as they were the tents were admittedly warm and offered good protection from the drizzling rain.

But the tent wasn't the only problem. The jungle was _loud_. Even in the midst of the gentle thunderstorm, the forest around her was buzzing with life. There were hooting monkeys and chirping birds and buzzing insects, all apparently fighting to see who could sound the most disruptive. Every time she almost managed to nod off, some accursed creature would howl in the branches right over her head, jarring her from slumber. Sometimes she would hear the chilling howl of a kalo wolf in the distance or the searing screech of an echo snake finding its prey and find shivers running down her spine at the thought of such beasts prowling through the undergrowth outside camp. Then a clap of thunder would drown out the sound and the jungle would go silent for a few blessed moments, as if taking in a hushed and surprised breath. Moments later the cacophony would return, even stronger than before.

All in all, it was not the best atmosphere to get a well-deserved and well-needed good night's sleep.

Jay was beginning to understand what Vhonte Tervho had meant when the captain had asked why she and Vhetin had decided to tag along. This was truly unlike any mission she'd been on before. Just the thought of it made her nervous if she allowed her mind to stay on the subject; they were all but stranded for the night in this hostile jungle, a whole day's walk from the nearest center of civilization, probably surrounded by more echo snakes and kalo wolves and Force-knew what else. And somewhere out there were the mysterious _Kar'ta Epar'e, _very probably watching them even now.

_Calm down_, she told herself, taking a deep breath as she listened to thunder crack outside her thin-walled tent. _If they're really as skilled as Tamai says, we'd be dead already. If they are here, they're just watching._

The thought didn't comfort her. Nor did the murmur of conversation from the camp outside; apparently, there were many others who found sleep as elusive as she did. And if an expedition of battle-hardened Mandalorians was nervous, she sure as _haran _had every right to be. Still, she was determined to simply roll over and try to hone out the noise. At least, she was until she heard a very familiar voice outside her tent.

"Is everything ready?" It was Vhetin's voice, low and quiet as always.

"As ready as we could make it." Tamai's voice now. "Mandalorian steelbark is tough to chop down. But the Berserkers are thankfully lending more than just a hand. The pyre is almost finished."

"If you need my lightsaber, you only have to ask."

"I know. But the Rangers have it under control."

Jay sat up, listening intently. The two had stopped somewhere outside, no doubt seeking shelter from the storm under the branches of the tree where her tent was set up. She could hear shuffling feet not far from the front of her resting place.

"It's…" Tamai's voice, muffled through the wall of the tent, paused for a few moments. "It's odd, being back here. Part of me thought I would never regroup with the Rangers."

"Spending a week stranded in the jungle will do that to a person. I'm glad you managed to find your way back."

A laugh from Tamai. "Even considering I attacked you as soon as I saw you?"

"I've had worse greetings. You've obviously never worked for a Hutt."

"Obviously not. We thankfully don't have many crime lords on the frontier. I guess hunting down kalo wolves and echo snakes must be routine stuff for a big-shot _beroya_ like you."

A snort from Vhetin. "You wish."

Jay sat up and rested her arms on her knees, listening intently despite the nagging voice of her conscience telling her not to eavesdrop. She felt her sense of curiosity perking up its annoying head, and couldn't help but listen intently as the two continued their conversation outside.

Ranger Vasser was a fascinating figure; a woman who had obviously known Vhetin for years, perhaps since his mysterious arrival on Mandalore. And if Jay's suspicions were correct, the two had been very close once upon a time; an interesting fact in itself. Not many could make similar claims, and anyone who knew anything about her partner was worthy of closer scrutiny. She still didn't know as much about the black-armored Mandalorian as she would like.

The sound of scuffling feet; someone kicking at the mud. "It's… _ahem_, it's good to see you again, Tamai."

A laugh from the woman. "I thought I was going to have to shoot you when I first laid eyes on you again. But it's good to see you too. It's been too long."

"What's it been, three years? Four?"

"A lot has changed, hasn't it? You're all gussied up in black and gray, and I'm a damn-near respectable Ranger."

Vhetin chuckled. "Who would have imagined, huh? So how is Gracya?"

"What, you're keeping an eye on my girlfriends now? How do you know about Gracya?"

A short, embarrassed pause from Vhetin. "I-I like to keep tabs on my friends. I don't know if you're aware, but I don't have many."

"Some things don't change much, I guess," Tamai said, a note of humor in her voice. It faded away with her next words. "Gracya and I… we're not together anymore."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"Found her in bed with a pretty _aruetii _Twi'lek while I was still stationed at the equatorial farms. One of the reasons I transferred here. Having to stay on duty with a cheating bitch like her… well, it wasn't good for my health. Or hers, for that matter."

"So you hopped on board the first transport to the _Werda Kurs_? You seem to share my complete lack of self-preservation instinct, _vod'ika_."

"Well, you're a Bralor and I'm a Ranger. It comes with the territory."

"So you know that Janada adopted me, then?"

A hesitation from Tamai now. "I… like to keep tabs on my friends as well."

There was a long pause, long enough for Jay to think the two had moved out of earshot. But then Tamai cleared her throat and said, "Anyway, I'm just glad Hyperion decided to transfer with me. It would have been awfully lonely down here if I had to walk into this blind. It was nice having a familiar face on patrol."

"And you and Lee… you aren't…"

"No. Not that he isn't nice, but… he's just not my type, you know?"

"Right. You only prefer guys and girls who are apparently into Twi'leks. Or turn out to be kidnappers."

Sounds of a scuffle now; Tamai must have given Vhetin a playful shove. "That only happened once. Besides, you're hardly one to talk. You shacked up with literally the first woman you saw, even though she twisted your arm and handcuffed you on your first meeting."

"You're taking that out of context."

"I know I am. More fun that way. How is the high-born bitch, anyway?"

Vhetin's voice took on a tense note. "She's, uh… she's good. I guess."

"You _guess_? What, you two have gotten tired of making heart-eyes at each other? Or did Brianna's cooking not live up to your expectations?"

"Brianna… moved on. She left me. A few months ago now."

Dead silence. Then Tamai's stunned, disbelieving voice. "She _what?_ She _left_ you?"

Vhetin sighed. "It's a long story. One I don't feel like retelling now. But now she's hooked up with some hotshot merc and expects me to just get over it."

Jay could hear the pain in her partner's voice. He pretended like he'd moved on after Brianna had left him, but it was obvious it still hurt. She could understand; relationships that lasted more than five years usually didn't just end overnight. When they did, the results were… traumatic.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Tamai murmured. "I hated that woman. But you deserved better than that."

"It was more my fault than hers, I think," Vhetin replied. "Like I said, I don't want to talk about it."

"Recieved and understood," was Tamai's response.

Jay finally decided she had spent enough time eavesdropping – and enough time trying vainly to fall asleep. She unzipped her tent and stepped outside into the cold jungle night, slipping her jacket over her shoulders as she did.

It wasn't surprising to find that the camp was bustling with activity, even this late into the night. The Berserkers hadn't been too keen to stop their trek in the first place, but they had needed time to care for the dead and wounded. In the hours since the echo snake attack, they had set up a small makeshift camp on the banks of the river.

The air was cold enough that Jay could see her breath come out in a foggy cloud, and she very purposefully avoided the patches of ground that weren't sheltered by the canopy; the rain was slow and cold and she knew from experience that in this weather it could soak down into the bones and chill to the core. Who knew that it could get so cold at the equator?

Their expedition now numbered less than twenty, and it looked like nearly everyone was awake. There was a patrol of guards with handheld illuminators prowling up and down the river bank, wary for another echo snake attack. Small fires dotted the bank here and there, with small clusters of Mandalorians gathered close to the flames to chase away the chill of the falling rain. A rough barricade of interwoven ferns and tree branches made up the "command post" where the Che'daje sisters were attempting to establish holonet communication with Outpost Aurek to report the expedition's status and progress. So far, it didn't look like they were having much luck.

Vhetin and Tamai were standing a few feet away from her, looking silently out over the makeshift camp. The black-armored Mandalorian hadn't changed out of his dirty and mud-slicked combat gear. Tamai, on the other hand, had undergone a surprising transformation. She had bathed since rejoining the group, washing the dirt and twigs from her hair, and had cleaned her armor to a healthy luster that Jay hadn't thought possible under its earlier thick coat of mud.

Now Jay could see that Tamai was a surprisingly beautiful young woman with long blond hair, a strong jaw, and piercing green eyes. She had a faint scar stretching horizontally across her forehead, and another that arced down one cheekbone. She could see another scar, sharp, rough, and livid white, stretching across the back of one calloused hand.

Her armor was painted a deep blue with grey trim and yellow plates highlighting the more somber tones of her gear. A thick cloth poncho was wrapped around her shoulders and her helmet – which was clipped to her belt at the moment – sported three gold thunderbolt insignias across the forehead dome.

This was a very different woman from the wild and vengeful warrior that had charged down from the trees to attack a full-grown echo snake. Jay found herself a little jealous at just how quickly Tamai had rebounded from her savage look, especially considering she had just returned from a week of living in the jungle.

_I guess when you've worked in this profession as long as Tamai, _she thought, _you learn to clean up pretty quickly._

Vhetin finally turned at the sound of her approach and nodded in greeting. "Can't sleep?"

"Seems to be a trend," Jay noted, observing the many other expedition members who were bustling around their makeshift camp. The Che'daje sisters had apparently given up trying to establish outside contact and were now pouring over a set of holographic maps. Vhonte Tervho was sitting around a fire with a knot of Berserker troops, a mug of dark-colored ale in one hand while she slapped her thigh plate and laughed at some no-doubt filthy joke. Surprisingly, Norac Benz seemed to be one of the few who had managed to sleep; he was propped up in the branches of a tree, his legs up on a V-shaped branch with his supply pack tucked behind his head as a makeshift pillow.

Jay rubbed her eyes. "So what's all the commotion about? Are we moving out soon?"

"Not until dawn," Vhetin said, folding his arms as he watched a cluster of Rangers haul a fallen tree across camp. "But folks are busy regardless."

"Special occasion?"

"They're setting up a funeral service for the fallen," Tamai said, her voice quiet and somber.

"Oh," Jay responded in a similar tone. "But… don't Mandalorians bury their dead without ceremony? I thought you don't treat funerary rites the same as _aruetiise_."

"Normally you'd be right," Tamai agreed. "But in the jungle the rules change. We can't bury bodies deep enough to keep them from kalo wolves or mover roots. And being torn apart by jungle beasts is no honorable rest for a fallen warrior. So we cremate the dead instead."

"I see. And what about you, Cin? You can't sleep either?"

Her partner rubbed at the palm of his hand, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I… don't sleep well anymore. Given up trying."

"More of your nightmares?"

Tamai's brow quirked up at that. "Nightmares?"

"It's… it's nothing," Vhetin said, turning away. "Just bad dreams."

"Hey," Tamai said, stepping in front of him. She put her hand on his armored chest plates. "She's not talking about those same nightmares you used to get when we were younger, right? The bad ones where light would come pouring out of your eyes and your nose would start bleeding?"

The black-armored Mandalorian tensed. "It's really nothing I can't handle."

"Cin, I still remember you telling me how dangerous those nightmares were. How they could _kill_ you."

"They haven't killed me yet," he growled. "I'm _fine_."

"But—"

He brushed past Tamai, saying, "I'll catch up with you two later. I'm going to help arrange the funeral pyre."

Tamai watched him go with her hands on her hips. She eventually shook her head and said, "I've known that man for going on a decade now. And sometimes I still feel like I just met him yesterday."

Jay smiled, watching Vhetin stalk across the camp. "I can understand that feeling. Just how long did it take for him to come clean about his past with you?"

"It was a while," she admitted. "He was always shy with me. Took him a while to even work up the courage to talk to me after we first met. He was always a shy kid. But... well, we were always drawn to each other. It was inevitable that he would reveal his past to me eventually."

Tamai finally turned away and fixed Jay with a slightly skeptical eyebrow. "So. You're his partner, huh?"

"I am. Have been for some time now."

"And you two have fought back-to-back all this time?"

"Of course. We don't usually take separate contracts."

"And you two aren't... you know... _close_?"

Jay frowned. "What?"

"Have you... gotten to know him? _Well_?"

"You mean-"

"Is he putting his carbonite in your cargo hold?" Tamai said bluntly. "Firing torpedoes down your exhaust port?"

Jay didn't know whether to feel insulted or amused by the woman's obvious discomfort. But the embarrassed look in the woman's eyes and the way her cheeks burned suggested Tamai meant nothing by it. So she just shook her head and said, "No. Never. I have a boyfriend back in Keldabe."

"Right. Okay." Tamai let out a long breath, blushing furiously. "I just... just thought... well, an attractive woman like you..."

Jay cocked her head. "You care about him."

Tamai nodded sheepishly. It was a surprising change from the angry, no-nonsense warrior who had punched her in the nose only hours before – a punch Jay could still feel, too. But Jay had long ago learned not to judge Mandos at face value, and had seen much more surprising transformations than this.

She cocked her head. "I take it you two were close? Before you went your separate ways?"

"He doesn't talk about it much," Tamai said, rubbing the back of her neck, "because it's kind of a sore topic with Brianna. But I was... well, I was his first choice. Not her."

"Really?"

"Really." She smiled a little and shook her head. "It was a stupid thing, a product of overloaded teenage hormones. We were all just kids back then, but... well, Cin and I cared for each other."

"So what happened?"

Tamai shrugged. "Life happened. Cin went on to be a _beroya_ and I started training to be a Ranger. Factor in Brianna pushing to claim Stripes for her own and… well, let's just say our little romance didn't last long."

"So… why did you attack him when we first met? That's not really the normal way to greet your ex."

Tamai laughed. "You obviously haven't seen my exes, then."

Jay could believe it; Mandalorians treated love very differently from outsiders. She still didn't quite understand Mando courtship rituals, and part of her had begun to suspect that was the point.

"We didn't part on the best of terms when we saw each other last." Tamai leaned against the tree trunk, folding her arms. "Some things were said that… that we both wish we could take back."

"But," Jay proceeded slowly, careful not to overstep her bounds, "things are better now? Between you two?"

Tamai shrugged. "I guess. Many old wounds can be healed over the corpse of an echo snake."

"What?"

"It's a figure of speech down here. It means that strife can bring people back together."

"I see. Or, at least I think I do."

"Don't lose your mind over it," Tamai said, staring out at the camp. "We have more important things to attend to."

She glanced over at Jay. "I hope you're everything Cin says you are. The _Kar'ta Epar'e _won't go easy on you because you're an _aruetii_."

Jay raised her chin. "I never expected them to."

"Smart girl." Tamai pushed away from the tree and headed back into camp. "The funeral will start in half an hour. You're welcome to attend, so long as you keep quiet."

~~~~~~~~

The flicker of fire lit up the shivering, waving branches of the trees overhead. The fallen Mandalorians – three in all – were arranged on an interlocked bed of sturdy jungle steelbark planks. Their arms were folded over their chests, their weapons tucked beneath their palms. Their helmets had been removed and were placed at their feet, and their armor tabs – recording devices similar to Imperial identification tags – had been removed and given to Ranger-Commander Che'daje for delivery to their next of kin. The remaining Rangers and Berserkers had gathered around the pyre with their heads bowed in respect. From the looks of the crowd, it didn't look like anyone was sleeping any more.

Ranger-Commander Che'daje was approaching the pyre now, a lit torch held high in one hand. As she moved through the ranks of her men, a low and muted hum began to rise through the air. It was deep and sorrowful, so strong it made Jay's chest vibrate. She didn't know what it was until she looked around and realized the Mandalorians were beginning to sing.

It was a mournful melody that sent shivers down her spine, especially when it swelled as the Ranger-Commander approached the pyre. It looked like every Mandalorian present was transfixed on the fire dancing at the end of her torch. Before the Cathar warrior could light the pyre, however, a rough hand flashed out and caught her wrist.

Norac Benz was standing next to her, an unreadable expression on his gaunt face.

"Let me," was all he said.

The Ranger-Commander stared at him for a few long moments, then slowly nodded. Benz took the torch firmly, raising it above his head and staring into the fire for a long moment. Then he turned to the crowd. He licked his lips once before he spoke.

"This pyre," he called, "doesn't burn for these three alone. This jungle has claimed the lives of many _Mando'ade_. Fathers. Mothers. Brothers and sisters. Sons and daughters. These fallen warriors – Rangers and Kelborns and Berserkers and all the rest – received no rites. Yet we remember them now with the freshly fallen. The fire of that memory will burn within us for as long as we live, and they will live eternally because of it."

He gestured with the torch to Tamai, who was standing with Hyperion Lee not far away. "Ranger Vasser's team was the latest to go missing. She says they were all killed by the _Kar'ta Epar'e. _Let us all pray that they are the last."

There was a smattering of agreements and _hear, hear_s. Norac nodded reassuringly to Tamai, whose eyes were suddenly brimming with tears. But the woman just sniffed and nodded back. The Clanmaster then turned back to the pyre and raised the torch even higher. He bowed his head and spoke, almost too softly for Jay to hear.

"_Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la."_

A chorus of murmured words echoed his declaration. "_Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la._"

She knew those words: _Not gone, merely marching far away._ It was an old saying, spoken of the dead.

Benz turned back to the pyre and lowered the torch to the grass that covered the steelbark slabs. The fire caught almost immediately, roaring over the pyre and consuming the bodies lying there. He stared into the fire for a few moments before he tucked the torch between the layers of the pyre, allowing it to feed the blaze.

As soon as the cremation began, the assembled Mandalorians began to pound out a slow beat, hammering their fists against their chest plates in time with the funeral dirge they were already humming. The music grew and grew, until Jay could hear it echoing back to them through the trees. And then, through all the music, a single high female voice began to sing.

"_Motir… ca'tra nau tracinya… Gra'tua… cun hett su… dralshy'a…"_

Jay glanced over to search for the singer and saw with surprise that it was Tamai. Her head was bowed and her arms were folded tightly in front of her as if she were still struggling mightily not to cry. But despite this, her voice was clear, strong, and unwavering. Jay would not have guessed the woman to be such a talented singer.

And at her words, others began to join the chorus. Deep voices and high-pitched ones, strong voices and weak ones all joined together in a mournful union that echoed through the jungle.

"_Bal kote… darasuum kote… Jorso'ran… Kando a tome…"_

Jay was about to lean over and ask Vhetin what the words meant when she realized that he, too, had lent his voice to the group. His voice was low and quiet, so much so that she had to strain to hear him over the others, but he was singing along with all the rest. His eyes were fixed on his boots, and he wasn't looking up to watch the inferno consume the fallen warriors on the pyre.

Norac Benz, meanwhile, had dropped the torch and spread his arms, his form silhouetted against the raging blaze in front of him. His head was bowed and his arms were spread as he listened to the music swelling through the clearing. He raised his voice over the song and called out words Jay definitely _had_ heard before.

"_Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc_." His voice boomed through the clearing, easily overpowering the funeral dirge. "_Ni partayli, gar darasuum_. Hear us, _vode_, and know that you will live on in the _Manda_ for eternity."

These words needed no outside translation:_ I am alive, but you are dead. Yet I remember you, so you are eternal. _They were a Mandalorian remembrance of the dead, a tribute to the fallen meant to remind both the spirits and the ones who lived on that the dead would not be forgotten. It was a beautiful sentiment, and one that Jay herself had been forced to turn to on occasion. She still thought of those words when remembering her lost comrades from her days as an Imperial pilot.

Across the clearing, Hyperion Lee put an arm around Tamai's shoulders. But the fair-haired Ranger still refused to break down, raising her chin as she watched the cremation flames grow higher and higher. Her chin quivered slightly, but she showed no other outward sign of mourning for her lost men. It obviously took a great deal to reign back such powerful emotions.

Jay's heart went out to the woman; as much as they pretended to be the pinnacle of all warrior traditions, Mandalorians were just people. They loved and lost just like everyone else. Tamai very clearly mourned her lost team as if they were family. After losing her own team in a similar fashion, Jay could sympathize with that kind of loss.

But Jay knew as well as Tamai that they couldn't afford to show weakness or frailty now. They all had a mission to do, and that took precedence over personal grief. It was always a difficult decision, but sometimes personal feelings had to be put aside for the present moment until it was safer to dig them back up again. Looking at Tamai, it was clear that the warrior was doing just that, though not easily.

The song began to taper off. Jay glanced over at Vhetin to find him with his head still bowed. The other Mandalorians around her were all in similar states of self-reflection or mourning, heads bowed or hands over their hearts. No one spoke, or even so much as moved.

She suddenly felt very out of place. She didn't know these customs, didn't know the words to the songs that were being sung or the motions to properly honor the fallen. She had paid her respects, but now she didn't really belong here. This was a ceremony for men she had not known, and it should be reserved for those who did; or at least those who knew their culture.

She slowly backed away, moving back toward the camp without drawing attention to herself. No one paid her any mind. She was, after all, a lone _aruetii_ in a camp full of Mandalorians. Her absence would not be noted or missed.

_Three dead_, she thought, _and that was just an overgrown river serpent. What else is hiding in these trees? And if a single snake can take out three trained Mandalorians, what could we possibly do to stop these Heart-Eaters?_

She now knew why Shysa was taking this so seriously, and why he was so adamant to push for peace. For the first time in a _very_ long time, the Mandalorians were facing a more powerful opponent. One that could outmaneuver them, outplay them, and – if need be – outfight them. The _Kar'ta Epar'e_ were not a conventional enemy. They would not be lured from their trees, and would not fight fair.

She shuddered to think of the carnage that would follow a full-scale conflict with these mysterious creatures. On the large scale, it would make little difference; the Rangers could simply pull out of the _Werda Kurs_, take all their artifacts with them, and not look back. The maps would show an X over the forests with a label of _here be monsters_. The _Werda Kurs _and _Kar'ta Epar'e _would be a humbling example that while habitable, Mandalore was far from a tamed world. And elsewhere, life would go on.

But for the people who called this inhospitable jungle home, it would be a massacre. Hundreds, maybe thousands would die. Men, women, and children, vanishing as swiftly and mysteriously as Tamai's team. That couldn't happen.

_I don't know why people decided to settle in this Force-forsaken jungle, _she thought. _But it's their home now as much as it is the Heart-Eaters'. They deserve to be here too._

She doubted the _Kar'ta Epar'e _would see it that way.

She was halfway back to her tent when a cracking branch overhead drew her attention. A shower of falling leaves cascaded down around her and she instantly drew her pistol, aiming up into the canopy and squinting to see through the darkness.

At first, she thought it was just an overgrown monkey-lizard. Maybe some kind of oddly-shaped bird. But then she noticed arms, legs, and angular armor plating.

A man was sitting above her, resting on his haunches on the thick tree branch high overhead.

At least, she thought it was a man. He was lanky and muscular, wearing rough protective armor that looked pieced together from bits of leather, twisted metal, and thin strips of wood. His hair hung in thick dreadlocks that cascaded down around his face, which was hidden from view in the shadows of the trees.

Jay hesitated, too shocked to move. Was this one of the Kelborns, or the other locals that prowled this part of the jungle? The man carried a long, angular spear clutched in one spindly-fingered hand; definitely a local Mandalorian weapon.

He hadn't noticed her. For some reason, his gaze was fixed on the funeral procession. It was as if nothing else mattered at that moment. He was entranced, head cocked curiously to one side as he watched the Mandalorians honor their dead.

But then the man suddenly stiffened and his head snapped down to stare at her through the dark tree branches. And through the soft, drizzling rain, she saw his eyes glowed with livid gold light.

Jay's mind could spit out only one word: _Kar'ta Epar'e. _She tightened her finger on the firing stud of her weapon, ready to shoot up into the trees. Her mind screamed that she had to attack first or she – and most likely everyone else in this camp – would be dead in the next few minutes.

But before she could snap off a shot, her target let out a deep snarl and threw himself sideways into a tight knot of leaves and vines. She heard the branches shaking as he retreated back toward the river and the dark jungle beyond.

In a few seconds, it was as if no one had been there at all.


	11. Fording and Flirting

"What the hell do you mean, _he vanished?_"

Jay held her ground, ignoring the fiery rage that had blossomed in Norac Benz' ice-blue eyes. "He disappeared into the jungle. It happened in seconds; it wasn't like I could stop him."

Norac took a threatening step toward her. "And you waited until _now_ to tell us? For all we know, that could have been a scout preparing an attack force to—"

Vhonte Tervho's fist flashed out and hit him in the chest, holding him back. The red-armored woman was standing at his shoulder, a curious frown pulling at her features. Once she was sure the Clanmaster wouldn't cause trouble, she moved her fist away and absently rubbed at her chin.

"You said the _Kar'ta Epar _made no threatening moves?"

"Right."

"It wasn't counting our forces?"

"Right."

"It wasn't doing _anything_?"

"Not really. When I spotted it, it was just sitting and watching the funeral service. It seemed… I don't know. Curious."

Hish'ka Che'daje scoffed behind her heavy turban, yellow eyes flashing in the dim light of dawn. "Never heard of these beasts being curious before. They've always only been about killing Rangers and vanishing without a trace."

"That shows how important this event is," her sister said. The Ranger Commander had listened to Jay's tale without a word, taking in the whole story with an intense and attentive stare. Even as the others began to argue among themselves about the Heart-Eater's presence in camp and the implications of such an infiltration, she had remained silent. Now she stepped forward and folded her forearms across her camo-patterned chest plate.

"Mandalore Shysa has ordered us to make contact with the Heart-Eaters and establish diplomatic relations if possible," she said. "And the fact that this scout didn't attack means that there is at least one _Kar'ta Epar _who doesn't want to kill us on sight. What if the ones that have been attacking have just been a single tribe? Or an isolated pocket of warriors?"

"Unlikely." Benz snorted. "If one group knows about your people in the jungle, chances are the rest do to. If they're so friendly, why haven't any of them tried to contact you?"

"He raises a good point," Captain Tervho said. "You've had Rangers in the jungle for almost three centuries. And the only contact you've ever had with these creatures has been hostile. I think this scout was an exception to their usual behavior."

"Still," Jay felt compelled to point out, "if we can get even one of these Heart-Eaters on our side, it could lead to possibilities further down the road. Even if we only manage to map out their territory, it could save lives."

Hish'ka sighed and shook her head, but grudgingly looked to her sister for guidance. "What do you think? Should we risk it?"

Akh'shi nodded, her blue eyes narrowed as she turned back to Jay. "Which direction did the scout go?"

Jay pointed to the northwest, across the river. "He made a beeline for the other bank. If these things have a camp, chances are it's in that direction."

"Or," Benz said, "more likely it's where he and his buddies have set a trap for our little expedition."

"Either way," Ranger-Commander Che'daje said, "our quarry is on the other bank. Tell the men to pack up and get ready to ford the river. We leave in twenty."

Benz looked furious at the order, his eyes wide and his lips drawn into a thin line. But Tervho drew his attention by thumping his chest with her fist again and jerking her head toward camp. She set off to regroup with the Berserkers. Benz glared at Jay one last time before stalking after her.

Jay was about to head off to secure her own gear when Akh'shi Che'daje's voice called her back.

"Moqena. A moment, please."

Jay slowly turned back to the Ranger-Commander. "What's wrong?"

The Cathar warrior nodded her head to the tight cluster of Berserker troops gathering to greet their clanmaster. "They're what's wrong. The destabilizing effect the mountain men have on this group is worse than I thought. I don't like having my authority questioned."

Jay followed Akh'shi's gaze. "I'm sure Captain Tervho can keep them in line. Norac Benz trusts her."

"Which is what worries me," Che'daje said. "Benz looks like he ready to single-handedly start a war, and if things get violent which side will Tervho favor? The strange jungle-dwelling Rangers or her tried and true Berserker allies?"

"I think you're overestimating Tervho's attachment to those men," Jay said. "She's a bounty hunter. Her loyalty is to the contract, not to the people."

Hish'ka's yellow eyes narrowed, though it looked more like a smile than a snarl now. "Spoken like a true _beroya_."

Jay shrugged. "It's one of the first things I learned. Call it our code of honor."

"I'm well aware of bounty hunter codes," Ranger-Commander Che'daje said. "And if memory serves, doesn't the first rule state something about self-preservation coming before money?"

Jay couldn't argue there. _Rule One: credits are no good if you're dead._ She hesitated and said, "You… have a point. But Tervho doesn't seem much like the mutineer."

"They never do until it's too late," Akh'shi murmured. "And this deep in the jungle, such shortsightedness will get a good scout killed."

Jay frowned at the feline Ranger. "Why are you telling me this?"

Akh'shi's blue eyes were unfocused, as if her mind was far away. "When we find the _Kar'ta Epar'e_, people will die. There is no avoiding that. And when the bodies start falling, loyalties can change within the blink of an eye. I've seen it happen time and time again.

"Captain Tervho may be loyal to the contract, but those men listen only to Norac Benz. And if _he_ isn't loyal to this mission, we are going to have eleven heavily-armed, heavily-armored liabilities standing between us and our way home."

"Twelve," Hish'ka corrected. "You forgot Benz himself."

Jay felt her stomach knot up with worry. She couldn't exactly deny the truth of the Ranger-Commander's words; if pressed, Norac Benz would always – _always_ – do what he thought was best for himself and his men. It was an admirable trait, provided his ambitions were aligned with those of his allies.

And right now, they were not.

Benz wanted a fight, a bloody spectacle as repayment for his lost soldiers. To him, the hunt for the _Kar'ta Epar'e _was sport, an opportunity for him and his followers to prove themselves in combat that couldn't be found anywhere else on the planet. They didn't care if they were outnumbered or outmatched. They didn't care if Shysa had explicitly ordered them to try for peaceful contact with the Heart-Eaters. As usual, they only wanted blood. If the time came, could Tervho hold the Berserkers back from such bloodlust? And if things grew as bad as Ranger-Commander Akh'shi claimed, would their expedition survive division from within?

Akh'shi looked just as worried as Jay felt. She folded her arms and said, "The sooner we find the _Kar'ta Epar'e_, the sooner we can all go home. But do me a favor?"

"What?"

"If you see any more Heart-Eaters prowling about, make sure to just keep it between us."

~~~~~~~~

Vhetin and Tamai wandered aimlessly through the camp as the others bustled about in preparation for the river crossing. Vhetin liked to keep all his gear in close range for a speedy prep-time; a trait Tamai apparently shared.

"So…" Tamai eventually said. She didn't make any move to say more.

He glanced at her. "So…"

A long, awkward pause ensued. Tamai eventually cleared her throat. "So how… how are things in Keldabe?"

"Good, I guess. Harvest will be coming in soon. Busy time for everyone, _beroyas_ included."

"Right… right…"

He cocked his head. "Tamai, you never fumble for topics like this unless you have something on your mind that you don't want to talk about."

She laughed nervously, though the blush crawling up her cheeks told him he'd hit close to the mark. She stared down at her boots and said, "You think you know me so well, huh?"

"No," he replied, still staring expectantly, "but I know basic patterns of behavior. You're displaying all the biggest signs of a person who's either lying, cheating at cards, or trying not to say something important."

"Remind me never to play you at cards, then."

"Tamai…"

She sighed and clasped her hands in front of her. "Right. Sorry. I'll get to the point, I guess."

She stared off to one side, refusing to meet his helmeted gaze. She took in a deep breath, then blurted out, "Brianna. How serious was it?"

He didn't say anything. His silence was due mostly to surprise, but also because of the tight feeling in his stomach whenever the topic was brought up. He eventually cleared his throat awkwardly and echoed, "How… how _serious_ was it?"

"Yeah. I mean, what… what were your plans? Marriage? Children? What?"

"That's pretty personal, Tamai."

She blushed even deeper, turning a bright red framed by pale locks of blond hair. "I-I know. And I know I'm the last person who should be prying into your personal life, but… but I need to know. Did she treat you well? Did you treat _her_ well?"

"You're asking if we were happy." It was not a question.

Tamai nodded quickly, still staring at her boots. "I-I just… for so long I thought she was the worst thing that ever happened to you. I thought that… well…"

She sighed and finally looked up to meet his gaze. "Did she make you happy?"

_Kriff, Tamai_, he thought, _is now really the time for this?_

But the intense look he saw in her green eyes made him pause. This obviously affected her more than he realized, and she desperately needed an answer. So he hooked his thumbs into his belt with a weary sigh and stared down at his boots – much like she had done before.

"I think…" he licked his suddenly-dry lips. "I think we were happy. I… I loved her."

Tamai's expression didn't change, but he couldn't miss the steely look that came into her eyes. It was a look he knew well; a mask put up so that one's face couldn't betray an unwanted emotion or expression. Though his own helmet faceplate often did the job for him, he had still mastered the practice of what Janada called "having a good poker face."

"As time went on, though…" he continued, "Brianna just kept pushing for more and more. More time spent going out, more focus on life outside of bounty hunting, more _progress _in the relationship. She wanted it to move further, develop faster, and all I wanted was to enjoy what we had. And… I don't know, I kind of shut off. I couldn't give her what she was looking for. _I _wasn't what she was looking for."

Tamai nodded slowly. "I understand."

He frowned, staring absently past the flashing lights and readouts of his helmet's HUD. "And then, after I dropped out of contact on Mon Calamari… when I was living out the worst days of my entire life… I found out later she was already moving on and shacking up with the next big-shot merc that swaggered her way."

He shook his head and finally looked up to Tamai. "How can someone do that? I… I wasn't the best boyfriend, I know, but I _tried_. And I actually did care about her. But three months' away and she just cut me out of her life?"

Tamai sighed and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I know how much that can hurt, Cin. I'm… I'm sorry you had to go through that."

He turned away, shaking his head again. His chest was tightening uncomfortably, his hands feeling too shaky to let loose from their clenched fists. He hated the feeling, and did his best to quash it down to more manageable levels. "I still have nightmares every night from those days with the Empire. Every time I so much as think about it, my stomach twists itself up into a cold knot in my gut. Every time I close my eyes, I can still see those kriffing doctors with their kriffing needles. And the one person whose memory pulled me through it all… who was my one guiding light…"

He stared at the ground and let out a shaky breath. His heart was swelling with equal parts rage and… something else. Something weaker. Something more pathetic. He couldn't afford to feel this wretched self-loathing, especially not now. So he brushed the sensation away, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

He felt Tamai's hand on his shoulder, urging him to turn back around. When he did, he found himself enveloped in a tight hug. It was an uncomfortable gesture, all hard metal plating and sharp edges, but there was no mistaking the softness and sincerity of the motion. He hesitated, then wrapped his arms around Tamai's waist and hugged her back.

"I'm sorry for what they did to you," Tamai murmured against his chest plates, making no motion to release him. "Brianna, the Empire, and all the others… you always deserved better than that."

"I, um…" he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I wouldn't go that far. You do remember you wanted to shoot me yourself just yesterday?"

Thankfully, she said nothing. _Shut up, you idiot_, he told himself. _Shut up before you ruin this. Just… enjoy it while it lasts._

Tamai finally drew away, her face hardening back into its familiar no-nonsense expression. She stepped back to arm's length and cleared her throat, reaching up to tie her hair into a functional, helmet-ready bun.

"Well," she said, all softness now gone from her tone. "You deserved _that_ at the very least. It's good to have you back, Stripes."

He nodded, still a little confused by the sudden shift in tone and behavior. "It's good to have _you_ back, too."

She nodded, then secured her helmet over her head. When she spoke again, her voice crackled through the menacing tones of her helmet's vocoder. "We should get ready. The group will be ready to cross the river soon. Don't want to keep the Che'daje sisters waiting."

"I'll catch up with you. I have to find Jay before we set out."

She nodded and turned on her heel, heading straight for the riverbank where a small cluster of warriors were waiting to cross. She didn't look back, though Vhetin got the distinct feeling she was watching him through the 360-degree vision of her helmet's HUD.

What had gotten into her? Only yesterday she had punched him in the throat and put her boot on his neck like she wanted nothing more than to kill him and move on. But now she was asking about Brianna and giving him awkward, too-long hugs?

He'd have to ask Venku about this when he got back to Keldabe. The Mando might be a little too cheery for his tastes, but there was no denying he had a knack for gauging behavior – especially when it came to women.

He shook his head as he turned to search for his partner. To his surprise, he found her standing only a few paces away, hands on her hips and a knowing smile on her face. He paused, regarding her warily.

"Um… what's with the smirk?"

The smile broke into a full-fledged grin as she stepped toward him and nudged him in the ribs. "I think you know, you sly kath hound."

He flinched away and said, "Explain please."

"You seem to be patching things up with Tamai pretty quick. Twenty-four hours and you've gone from trading blows to trading hugs? That's got to be record progress."

"Are trying to insinuate something?"

Jay sighed in exasperation and gestured after the blue-armored woman. "Are you _so_ blind, Cin? She's _interested_!"

"Interested," he replied, deadpan. "As in, _interested in me_?"

His partner rolled her eyes. "No, interested in the brand of paint you use on your armor. Of _course_ interested in you!"

He glanced after Tamai again, then turned away with a shake of his head. "No. No, you're reading it all wrong. She's just glad to see me again. It's been almost four years since we last met. It's just… friendly banter."

Jay quickly hopped in front of him. "Don't you run away! If she's so glad to see you, why do you think she asked you about Brianna?"

"The two _are_ mortal enemies, Jay. Or as near as dammit, anyway. I'm not surprised they would keep tabs on each other."

"Cin, please stop thinking tactically for a moment and try and see things from her perspective. She wants to know if you're _available_! She's not even being that subtle about it."

"Maybe not to _you_," he said. "Jay, you don't know Tamai like I do."

"True. But as a member of the fairer sex, I think I know a little bit more about how women test the water to see if someone's open. Wouldn't you say?"

He had to give her that one, however reluctantly. He folded his arms and said, "All right. Maybe you have a point. You really think… you really think she wants to get back together? With me?"

Jay shrugged. "Would it really hurt to find out?"

"It might. You do remember that your first interaction with her involved getting punch in the nose?"

Jay shrugged. "That's just Mando women. I've gotten used to that by now. But _you_ need to get your act together and respond to some of these advances before she gets cold feet."

"Jay, how do you even know I _want _these advances?"

She fixed him with a skeptical glare. "Okay, Cin. Let's run through the checklist."

He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Not the checklist again…"

She began counting off on her fingers. "You two get along well. Correct?"

"We seem to be, I guess."

"_Check_. You like each other, correct?"

"Of course. We've been friends for years."

"_Check_. And you think she's attractive?"

He felt his cheeks warming and thanked _te Manda_ he still had his helmet in place. "Well…"

She smirked at him. "_Check_. And finally: do you think you'd be _happy_ with her?"

"Jay, I don't—"

"Humor me. Think of it solely as a hypothetical exercise."

He didn't answer, didn't _want_ to answer. The implications of what Jay was saying warranted further thought. So he just glared at her through the T-bar visor of his helmet and said, "I'll… mull over what you're saying. For now, we have more important things to focus on."

She raised her hands in reluctant surrender. "Fine. Whatever you say. But don't forget this conversation, or you'll regret it later."

She jerked her head, motioning for him to follow. "Come on. Everyone's getting ready for the river crossing. We don't want to be the last ones to the party."

He hurried after her, determined to keep his word and think over the conversation. If what Jay said was true – if Tamai was truly still interested in him, after all this time – then he doubted dear Ranger Vasser would _let_ him forget.

~~~~~~~~

Tamai kept her eyes fixed on the murky water surrounding her, constantly checking her heads-up display for hostile contacts. Thick particles of mud and dirt swirled lazily around her arms and legs, kicked up into the hazy brown water by her heavy footfalls.

Crossing the river was always going to be dangerous; echo snakes and razorfin sharks infested these waters. But thankfully, Mandalorian armor was far too heavy to float. So the Rangers were trudging across the bed of the sluggish river in their environment-sealed suits while the Berserkers – with their rag-tag armor, equal parts plate and leather – swam across the river above their heads. Visibility was low, but they would still be able to see predators from a good distance away.

Tamai triggered her helmet light, which did little to cut through the murk. The waterways of the _Werda Kurs_ were almost all filth-clogged and full of muck. Her boots sank up to the knee in silt as she walked, slowing her progress.

Over her comm, she heard Lee grunt as he too struggled through the mud that covered the riverbed. His breath was labored as he fought against both the thick layer of silt and the lazy tug of the river's current. Tamai grinned and triggered their shared comm channel.

"Hyperion," she said, "is that you breathing so hard?"

Lee cursed while Tamai watched his dark figure stumble and almost lose footing. He regained his balance and muttered, "_I almost forgot how much I hate amphibious treks_."

"Stop whining," she laughed, edging around a sunken tree log. "At least there aren't any echo snakes prowling about. Yet."

"_Don't _say_ that. You'll jinx it."_

She shook her head. "Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other and we'll be at the other side in no time. Ranger-Commander Che'daje's probably out and sunbathing by now."

They trudged along in silence for a while – Lee still cursing quietly while Tamai looked up to note the progress of the Berserkers above them. Eventually, her friend's voice came over her helmet comm once again.

"_So… what's the deal with you and the guy in black_?"

Tamai's heart sank. _Oh great. It's time for _that_ conversation_. "You're talking about Vhetin?"

Her comm crackled with static. "_Duh. Don't think I missed you shooting googly eyes at him earlier._"

She scoffed. "I don't shoot _googly eyes_ at anyone. Besides, it's none of your business."

"_Really? You're that head-over-heels?_"

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response." She scowled. "Why is this so important to you, anyway? Jealous? You want me all to yourself?"

"_Uh-uh, don't turn this around on me. We're talking about _your_ childhood crush, remember?_"

She sighed explosively and considered switching off the comm. She was glad that it was a private channel at the very least; she didn't like the idea of broadcasting such a conversation to the entire expedition force.

"Okay," she finally said. "I think it's nice to see him again. And now that he's finally broken up with that idiot _aruetii _he called a girlfriend…"

Lee's voice dropped to a mock-seductive tone. "_You think it's time to… mix business with pleasure?_"

She kicked up a cloud of silt in his direction, watching the hazy cloud waft through the water to envelop the steel-armored Ranger. "No, idiot. But the thought of reconnecting… isn't exactly upsetting."

Lee shook the silt from the front of his visor. "_So what happened between you two, anyway?_"

She sighed and focused on her boots once more. "It was difficult keep a relationship going when one person is constantly off world hunting bounties and the other is stuck on the frontier working for the Rangers. _Long-distance relationship_ doesn't even begin to cover it."

"_So that was it? It just didn't work out logistically_?"

"Well, there was also the matter of the aforementioned idiot _aruetii_ who kept trying to steal him away. When you're off on a different side of the planet while your boyfriend's at home chumming it up with the girl who's trying to steal him away from you… well, you start to assume things."

She grimaced. "Some things were said. I may have accused him of cheating on me with Brianna. He may have taken offense – no surprise – and we may have decided that our situation wasn't exactly ideal."

"_And did any of those hypothetical accusations turn out to be true?"_

She shook her head. "No. Cin's a lot of things, but he isn't a liar, and he isn't a cheat. It was only after we broke up that he got together with Brianna. Probably just to spite me, though it seems they got on well for a long while."

"_So… why exactly did you want to shoot him when you first saw him?"_

She grimaced. "It's a long story. Suffice to say it involved Cin and his sister sneaking a nexu kitten into my quarters as revenge for my accusations. The little bastard tore the place up and shredded the Wookiee doll my mother gave me when I was little. Oh, and they almost drummed me out of the Rangers when I had to present the mess for surprise inspection."

"_Seriously?"_

"Seriously. Don't get on Janada Bralor's bad side. You'll regret it, but never in the way you expect."

"_And you were willing to shoot Vhetin because of a little prank?"_

Tamai chewed her lip. "I _liked_ that Wookiee doll."

"_Okay._ _Not gonna pry any further into _that _debacle…"_

"Please don't. I got to punch him in the throat and watch him flop around like a fish. I'm satisfied for now and let's leave it at that."

_"And yet now there's the matter of this new girl. Moqena_."

She glanced over to where Vhetin was helping Jay – in her helmetless, yet heavy armor – to stay above the water by supporting her on his shoulders. His progress was quicker than theirs, as he was forced to stick to what little shallow water they could find so Moqena could keep her head above the water. She smiled a little at the sight and thought, _Who thinks chivalry is dead_?

Then she shrugged and looked back to Lee. "Moqena claims there's nothing going on between them. I believe her."

"_So are you gonna make a run for the Man in Black or not_?"

She hesitated. "I… don't know."

"_Aww, why not? If all you've said is true, he's cold, unsociable, foolhardy, and routinely gets his friends into trouble. He sounds perfect for you!"_

She kicked another clod of silt his way, though this time he managed to avoid it. "Would you shut up already? I told you I don't know. Things didn't exactly work out last time. Why would anything be different now?"

"_Uh, maybe because you two aren't idiot teenagers anymore? Because you're both older and smarter and more mature about relationships?"_

"And what if I told you I was still broken up over Gracya?"

"_I'd call your bluff. You broke her _nose_. I think you made your point pretty clear, Tamai."_

She shook her head and redoubled her efforts to fight to the others die of the river. "Just… let me think on it. I would be lying if I said that the idea of starting up with Cin again wasn't… intriguing. I just don't know if I'm ready."

"_Life is short, Ms. Vasser. Gotta grab it – and him – by the balls if you want to make something out of it. He's not going to stand around and wait for you to profess your undying love when you're good and ready for it. Hell, he may not even _be_ here this time tomorrow."_

"Don't talk like that."

"_Talk like what? A smart soldier? The _Kar'ta Epar'e _are dangerous, Tamai. There's no guarantee any of us are going home. Might as well go after what little life you may have left."_

"You… have a point. A morbid one, but a point nonetheless."

"_That's me," _he said, wading through a waist-deep patch of mud. "_Ever the realist. Just think on it. I think someone new would be good for you."_

She looked over to Vhetin's silhouette again. _You may be more right than you know._

Then she shook her head and refocused herself on the task at hand. _Talking relationship advice while wading across the bottom of a river, _she thought as she approached the opposite shore. _Kriff, my life is weird._

~~~~~~~~

Hish'ka Che'daje was already dried off and scouting the jungle ahead when Vhetin and Jay emerged from the river. Vhetin shook a long strand of underwater creeper fern from his shoulder with a grunt of disgust and quickly moved away from the shore.

"What's the matter?" Jay asked, wringing river water from her hair.

"I'm not a big fan of deep water," her partner replied, shaking loose droplets of water from his pressurized suit. He released the seal around his neck and the compressed air hissed out in a foggy cloud, venting the built up carbon dioxide in his suit. "I've had… bad experiences."

"Ah, right. Well thanks for carrying me across. It would have been a bitch to try and swim alone."

He shook his head, draining water from one ear-mounted audio transceiver. "My pleasure."

"Vhetin! Moqena!"

They turned to find Vhonte Tervho, also sopping wet, striding from the river toward them. At her shoulder was Hyperion Lee and a Berserker Jay didn't recognize. The Captain waved them over and said, "I want you two to join Che'daje's scouting party. Make sure there are no surprises waiting for us in the jungle."

"With pleasure, Captain," was Vhetin's dutiful response.

Tervho glared up into the treeline. "I don't like the quiet. I feel like we're being watched already and we don't even know it. Hell, considering who's out here with us, we probably are."

Lee chuckled and clapped her on the shoulder as he walked past. "Hey, look on the bright side. If they _are _watching us, they haven't attacked yet. Good sign for your peace envoy mission!"

The captain shook her head as Lee and the Berserker jogged off to join Hish'ka in the jungle. Then she turned to Jay and said, "So? How are things in the group?"

"You're asking me?"

"I did ask you to keep an eye on relations between the Rangers and Berserkers? Or have you forgotten already?"

Jay felt a twinge of guilt at giving up the details of Akh'shi's earlier conversation, but she did feel obligated to inform Tervho of the developments. She was the only one the Berserkers trusted, and as such, she was the only one who could stop them if they got out of hand.

"The Ranger-Commander is worried," she eventually sighed. "She thinks to the Berserkers are too volatile. Benz wants to start a fight and she's not sure that he can be stopped if he really puts his mind to it. We need this peace mission to work out, but I don't think Benz cares."

Tervho nodded. "I was afraid of that. And I think you're right. Norac's got the scent of blood and there's little to stop him from chasing after it, even if it leads to trouble down the road. But don't worry; I'll keep an eye on him until that time comes. He trusts me. I can hold him back."

"I hope you're right. For all our sakes."

Tervho rested a hand on her shoulder as she passed and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Keep your eyes open, you two. The Heart-Eaters are going to make their move soon. We need to be ready when that happens."

Vhetin stared after Tervho for a few moments, then glanced at Jay. "Am I the only one who's surprised the Berserkers have behaved themselves this far?"

Jay rolled her eyes as they set off toward the jungle once again. "I just want to know why everyone suddenly thinks _I'm_ the one who needs to know everyone's secrets…"

~~~~~~~~

High above the river, in an alcove of interwoven branches and leaves that was hidden from the sight of the expedition team far below, Werd'cetara watched their exit from the river with careful attention. His golden eyes glowed as he regarded the humans scurrying about below, and the thick black dreadlocks that framed his angular face were tugged by the humid jungle breeze. He let out a slow breath, nostrils flaring, as his eyes darted across the riverbank below.

There were just under twenty of them. Half of them were the Metal-Men from the treeless places, wearing smooth-pounded armor and hefting lethal looking blades and spears. He knew they didn't carry their light guns here; too far from their own home, where their supplies could be replenished. This deep in the jungle, they were forced to use blade and bow, just like Werd's people.

Yet they were dangerous, no matter what the war bands claimed. The Metal-Men knew this jungle, and they knew how to survive in it. They were a threat that could not be taken lightly.

Then there were the newcomers; men and women wearing leather and metal both. They had long hair, like his people, though most were human. The men had long, thick beards, while the women often decorated their faces with warpaint or ritual tattoos. They too hefted spears and swords, though they carried them with a clear air of violence that left a tight, uneasy feeling in the pit of Werd's stomach.

These ones were dangerous too, but for a very different reason. He had heard them talking in their guttural language, had seen the way the sky-eyed man had scowled and stomped away with his tiny human fists clenched. The newcomers were at once familiar and foreign; similar to his own people, but very obviously allied with the Metal-Men. They would fight with their allies, and they wanted nothing more than to kill his people.

But he couldn't help but think back on that night, couldn't stop remembering the burning fire that consumed the bodies of the fallen. Funeral pyres, just like his own people used. The songs they sang, so similar to the funeral dirges sung by the elders.

And that word they kept whispering to each other, like it was at once important and cursed. His lips angled and twisted, trying to form the alien word. His tongue felt sluggish as he spat it out under his breath.

"_Peese… Peece._"

It was obvious the Metal-Men wanted this _peece_, while the others clearly did not. But what was it? Some new weapon to turn against the _Kar'ta Epar'e_? The name of some great warrior come to kill him and his people? Whatever it was, he doubted it could be good. He had seen almost a quarter-century's worth of dawns, and he knew what a warrior looked like. Even more familiar was the sight of a warrior arming for battle. Werd knew beyond any doubt that these Metal-Men and their allies came to these lands armed for conflict.

It saddened him to know it was a conflict they would not win.

They were fascinating, the Metal-Men; their armor caught his eye, entrancing him with the shimmering way the sunlight reflected off the polished metal. He had seen the glowing light sword wielded by the warrior in midnight-colored armor; sorcery just like out of the clan's legends. He wanted to meet them, to talk with them and learn the powerful secrets they so obviously held.

The others did not share his beliefs. They saw the intruders as simply more hearts for the sacrificial altar. But in these strange, armored men and women, Werd saw something different. Something _new_. And the possibilities that held had piqued his curiosity.

He knew he should not be this close. He knew he would be lashed if he was caught. But he needed to know more, needed to learn more about this _peece_ the intruders spoke of. The Metal-Men tightened their control on his people's territory more every day. If that progress could be slowed by any means, the clans would have time to regroup and counter the advance. Maybe the Blackfingers would even make progress and restore the holy serpents to life, finally turning the tide against the Metal-Men.

Until then, Werd would wait and watch and ponder over these mysterious intruders and their talk of _peece_.

From the distance, he heard the telltale call of his brothers searching for him. He could not be discovered this close to the outsiders. So he grabbed his spear from the branch nearby, cast one last look down at the humans far beneath his feet, then raced off into the canopy once again.

The branches shook once, then he was gone.


	12. Basilisk Droid

The morning was tense and quiet as the expedition set off once again into the depths of the jungle. News that their group had fallen under the scrutiny of the _Kar'ta Epar'e_ – even if at the moment it was only one – had everyone on edge.

Vhetin wasn't surprised; send a warrior up against the toughest enemy, and he'd most likely do it without complaint. But pit a soldier against an enemy he _couldn't_ see, and things changed dramatically. As the morning hike wore on, he noticed Rangers and Berserkers jumping at shadows and rustling branches as if every hidden nook and cranny of the jungle was sheltering murderous beasts. In this terrible place, even Mandalorians were just as spooked as anyone else.

_This is the Werda Kurs_, he reminded himself. _There probably _is_ some kind of man eater around every corner._

As usual, Hish'ka Che'daje led the way, her sharp yellow eyes raking over the jungle ahead of them. Occasionally she would drop to one knee and paw at the dirt underfoot, taking note of broken branches or small, irregular puddles of water in the forest floor. Vhetin didn't know if her cybernetic hand was outfitted with more advanced sensors to help her track, but she always seemed to know exactly where to go to bring them closer to the source of the Heart Eater attacks.

Vhetin was no stranger to the art of tracking; broken branches signaled recent and violent movement, and the puddles of water were footprints. He hazarded a look over the tracker's shoulder at one point and saw a roughly humanoid print, with long toes and what looked like sharp talons.

"Definitely in their territory now," Hish'ka hissed as she straightened. "We're off the edges of the map. _Here there be monsters_."

Jay stepped closer as well and noted another footprint near the first. "What about that? That doesn't look like the same kind of print."

"It's a boot," Hish'ka replied quietly. "Mandalorian-issue _cetar_. Our Heart-Eaters had a prisoner. Probably one of the missing Rangers. Maybe one of the Kelborns, if they were stupid enough to wander this far from their own land."

Jay didn't bother to ask what the _Kar'ta Epar'e _did with their prisoners. At this point, the question was on everyone's mind. It was obvious that a name like _Heart-Eaters_ was no local legend; possible sentience aside, creatures this savage very likely consumed their prey. Vhetin shuddered to think of the horrors faced by the captive Mandalorians, and he found himself more thankful than ever that Tamai had fought her way back to the others.

Yet as the day wore on, he noticed Tamai's disposition growing more and more sour. With every clue of Heart-Eater activity they found, and with every indication that the creatures had taken prisoners, her scowl grew deeper and her hands clenched into even tighter fists. No one around her – Vhetin included – was willing to broach the subject of her anger, though at one point Norac Benz leaned near and hissed, "At least they died a good death."

Tamai, unsurprisingly, said nothing.

They stopped near noon, when the sun was beating down through the canopy high above. The Ranger-Commander called for a short break while the course ahead was revised. The exhausted expedition members spread through the rocky clearing where they had stopped, flopping down onto the rocks like sunbathing lizards while the Che'daje sisters scouted ahead with Tervho and Benz.

Vhetin eased himself onto the rough boulder Tamai had claimed. The woman offered no greeting, simply staring at her lap with a distracted frown. He watched her for a few moments, then cleared his throat.

She said nothing.

He hesitated, arguing with himself whether or not to say anything. Eventually he decided that if their roles were reversed, he would most definitely want someone to comfort him. So he licked his lips and spoke before he could hold himself back.

"I'm sorry, Tamai," he said. "About the men you lost."

"They weren't just soldiers, Cin," she hissed back. Her voice was as cold and tense as rigid permasteel. "They were friends."

He nodded. "I know."

"And now they're dead. Or even worse, if Benz is to be believed. And yet somehow, I'm still here."

She glanced up at him, and he couldn't help but see the pained mix of fury and grief in her eyes. "How is that fair? I was far from the best Ranger among them. Why are they dead while I'm alive?"

He shook his head. "Luck of the draw, _vod'ika_. We don't get to choose these things."

She sighed. "I thought… I thought just getting revenge would help. But the longer we've been walking… I just can't get it out of my head. It's like it's embedded in my mind's eye."

Vhetin knew that feeling all too well, but he remained silent as she continued.

"I close my eyes, and all I can see is Ushi being hoisted up into the trees, screaming." Tamai's voice was hollow and numb. "I look at the forest around my and all I can remember is the way Y'taora was dragged into the underbrush. The way he ripped up clumps of dirt trying to crawl away."

Vhetin hesitated, then put an arm around her shoulder. He half expected her to push him away, but she thankfully just leaned against him, still staring down at her lap. She shook her head and her voice began to quiver dangerously.

"You don't know what it's like… to have people counting on you, _trusting you_ to be in charge. To be one step ahead of the beasts trying to kill them. And then… then to _fail_…"

"Actually," he said, "I do."

She glanced up at him with a sniff. "You do?"

He nodded. "You heard about the bombings in Keldabe? Well, after the enforcement office had tracked the culprit to the tunnels under the city, _Mand'alor_ Shysa put me in charge of half of the attack on Caranthyr's base. I was leading a counteroffensive into the sewers that would engage his forces and keep them distracted so the second team could infiltrate and get Caranthyr himself."

He shook his head with a weary sigh, feeling an old and familiar pain constrict his heart. It was a hated mixture of guilt and shame that haunted him every time his mind returned to the chaotic events six months ago.

"Only Caranthyr didn't send his soldiers. He emptied his cells of all the prisoners he had kidnapped, strapped bombs around their necks, and sent them to my position as suicide bombers."

Tamai's hand drifted up to cover her mouth. "_Osik…_ what did you do?"

"I did the only thing I could. I ordered the people under my command to fall back. I kept only a few people with me and held the line as long as I could. I had hoped that by drawing my forces back, Caranthyr would see that I wasn't enough of a threat to trigger the bombs."

"And?"

"He triggered them anyway. Over a hundred people died down in those sewers. It… it was my fault, and everyone knew it. I should have kept the soldiers there, should have stayed to fight…"

"But how many more did you save by sounding the retreat?"

"Does it matter?"

Tamai shrugged. "To the men and women who survived, I think it does."

"And what about you? If we do manage to broker peace with the _Kar'ta Epar'e, _will knowing that you saved more lives than you lost change anything? Will it help you sleep better at night?"

Her response was instant. "No. I just can't stop seeing their faces, every time I close my eyes. Uliio and Pol and Kexa… they're still dead and no peace will change that."

Vhetin nodded. "It seems we're in a similar predicament. So what do we do?"

"Stay up all night and play cards?"

He laughed at that, surprised that he had enough mirth in his heart to do so. "That's actually not a bad plan. Tonight at second watch?"

She smiled back. "It's a date."

They fell silent for a time, watching the rest of the group. Jay was sitting on a tall boulder with Lee, listening intently while the Ranger taught her how to successfully avoid a surprise attack from a _Jai'galaar_ hawk. Lee was making grandiose swooping gestures with his hands, pantomiming the aggressive attacks of the massive avian, while Jay listened with rapt attention.

Eventually, Vhetin cleared his throat and removed his arm from around Tamai's shoulders. He folded his hands in his lap, an awkward motion even to his eyes, and said, "Tamai… I want you to know something."

"Hmm?"

"I… I'm sorry for the things that I said."

"What, about being sorry?"

"No, no," he quickly corrected. "Before we decided to go our separate ways. All those years ago? I'm sorry. I never should have turned my back on you like that."

"Cin…"

"It was selfish and wrong, and you never deserved that, no matter what you accused me of. So I'm sorry. And no matter what happens, I'm not turning my back on my friends again."

"I'm hardly any better," she pointed out. "I think we're both in the wrong. So for now, I forgive you."

"I hope I can forgive myself, honestly."

"Still too busy watching your own faults to see the faults in others, I see." She smiled, a little sadly. "You may have changed your armor colors, but you're still the same old Cin, aren't you?"

"Always was. Always will be, I hope."

She cocked her head, her green eyes scrutinizing him closely. "It looks good on you. The black and gray, I mean. I like it."

He glanced down at his armor, clenching one gloved hand into a tight fist. "Thank Janada. She worked up this new suit for me."

"So why did you change the old colors? I actually kind of liked the old black and blue."

"The blue was… too cheerful. Didn't really match my personality, I guess. And don't even get me started on that kriffing cape..."

"But gray is for mourning a lost loved one."

"Yeah."

"And that lost one is...?"

"It was for you," Vhetin said with a sigh. He spoke quickly, as if the words were falling out of his mouth. "At least at first. It was a childish decision, I know. But I've grown to like it over the years."

"No," Tamai insisted. "No, no. It's sweet more than anything. I didn't know you cared that much. I certainly didn't know you mourned my absence."

"We've had our differences in the past," Vhetin said, "but did you ever think I didn't care?"

"No," she replied instantly. "Never."

Before they could descend into awkward silence once more, she leaned closer and nudged his shoulder playfully. "If anything, you care _too _much. I mean, I disappeared for a week so you decided to fly all the way down here from Keldabe! You're a little clingy if you ask me."

He chuckled. "You know, I never thought I'd hear myself described as _clingy_."

"Well _someone_ had to tell you. Guess I was the unlucky one."

He happened to glance up and saw Jay smiling knowingly at him from her perch on the boulder some distance away. Over her shoulder, Lee was also helping in his own way; mouthing "_kiss her"_ and making headbutting motions to indicate a_ kov'nyn _or _Keldabe Kiss_.

He ignored them both and instead looked to Tamai again. She was staring at her lap once more, her mind obviously back on her lost soldiers.

"Tamai," he slowly said, "I know you feel terrible for living when the rest of your squad died. I know that feeling, and I hate it as much as you do. As much as _anyone_ does."

She glanced up at him, meeting his helmeted gaze with those dark green eyes. He took a deep breath and forged on ahead before his own cowardice could stop him.

"But," he continued, "I'm… more than just happy that you made it out. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't made it."

She blushed. "Come on, Cin…"

"No, just hear me out." He tentatively reached out and took her hand, squeezing it for emphasis. "You may think that you deserved to trade places with your squad, or even die with them. But just remember that there's at least one Mando out there who's glad you made it back safe and sound."

She smiled, though the action was a little nervous and unsteady. "Well… I'll have to thank Lee the next time I see him. He was certainly happy to see me arrive back at camp."

"I'm serious, Tamai."

Her eyes widened, lips parted slightly. "Cin, I-I don't…"

Akh'shi Che'daje's voice suddenly interrupted her. "Break's over! Pack up your gear and let's get on the road again! We don't want to stay in one place for too long!"

The expedition group instantly sprang into action once again. Rangers shouldered their gear once more and the Berserkers flocked to Norac Benz. Within moments, they were ready to hit the trail, wherever it might lead. Tamai gently removed her hand from Vhetin's and brushed her hair behind her ear, still blushing till she was as as red as a Gundark. Still, she met his gaze and held it before saying, "We're not done with this conversation, Cin. I promise."

He nodded as he stood, glad that his helmet hid just how red his own face had become. "Right. We can continue it later. Maybe over cards?"

She smiled. "I'd like that."

She hopped off the rock and jogged over to the group forming near the tree line. Any sign of her previous melancholy was gone; whether that was because it was truly gone or simply because she was masterfully hiding it, Vhetin didn't know.

But once she reached the others, she glanced back at him with a seemingly happy smirk and jerked her head as if to say, _are you coming or what?_

He smiled to himself, then rose to his feet and followed. As he joined her with the rest of the expedition, he pointedly ignored the clapping and thumbs-up from Jay and Lee behind him.

~~~~~~~~

**Some time later**

They walked for some time – Jay lost track after the sun was hidden by the thick canopy – and it seemed like they were no closer to finding their quarry. Hish'ka Che'daje was about as talkative as the tree stumps they kept passing, yet she kept leading them onward through the endless forest; to what destination, Jay didn't know.

When she grew tired of inspecting the chips and scratches that adorned the back of Vhetin's helmet, she decided to pass the time by admiring the sights they passed. It was an enjoyable endeavor that also allowed her to keep an eye out for the Heart-Eater that had been spying on them the night before. She saw no more mysterious tree-dwellers, but she did manage to entertain herself by watching the local wildlife.

They passed over a small stream where a large snake stretched itself out on a rock a short distance away, soaking up the rays of the sun that managed to peek through the canopy. Lee told her it was a Rock Crawler Snake, of no relation to the much larger Echo Snakes that prowled the jungle's waterways. Shortly after that, a flock of inquisitive, brightly-colored birds swooped overhead, cawing and hooting as they darted through the air. The Rangers paid them little mind, but when the birds started mimicking the conversation of the soldiers below them, the Berserkers had a high time teaching the avian more than a few of their favorite curse words.

"Cackle Birds," Lee explained. "They're natural mimics. It's how they lure in their prey."

Jay laughed as one of the birds swooped in and landed on Vhetin's shoulder, ruffling its feathers before opening its beak and calling him a very rude name and defecating all over his shoulder pad. Vhetin quickly shooed the bird away, leaving Jay to furiously attempt to stifle her giggles.

"They're cute," she said, ignoring the indignant glare her partner shot her. "Even though they've learned to swear like pirates within five minutes."

One of the cackle birds flashed through the air over her head. It squawked and echoed, "_Learned to swear like pirates! Within five minutes!"_

The birds danced and zig-zagged through the air before climbing up into the canopy and disappearing from sight. Jay was a little sad to see them go, but the unexpected appearance of a massive, speeder-sized lizard a few minutes later served as an equally decent distraction.

They had almost reached a narrow canyon when it appeared; huge and slow as a Coruscant transport bus, lumbering into the expedition's path with a lazy and disinterested stare. Hish'ka cursed and waved her arms to shoo the lizard out of the way, but it simply plodded forward, too large or too busy to be bothered with the tiny armored warriors whose path it had crossed. It ruffled the large spines protruding from its back and settled down onto its haunches, staring at them with large, glassy eyes.

"No, no, no!" the Ranger-Commander hissed, striding forward. "That canyon's the quickest way through this area!"

Norac Benz folded his arms and spat into the dirt while Tervho just cocked her head and said, "What do you want us to do? It doesn't look threatening."

"Just stand back. Hish'ka and I will handle this."

Lee chuckled as Hish'ka and her sister attempted to drive the creature away, waving their arms and shouting. "That, my dear city-dwelling friends, is what we call a Post Lizard."

Jay frowned at that. "Why _post lizard_?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Tamai said to her, nodding toward the Ranger-Commander and her sister still angrily trying to shoo the creature out of their path. "It's dumb as a post."

As if to reinforce the Ranger's words, the lizard's long, sticky-looking tongue flashed out and painted a sloppy path over its own eye. It continued to stare at the Rangers with such nonchalance that Jay began to doubt the creature was even aware of its surroundings.

She rested her hands on her hips, watching the Rangers at the front of the group poke the large animal with sticks or throw rocks at it. It didn't respond to either. "Why not just go around it?"

"What, through the thickets and the mud-filled ditches?" Lee replied, craning his neck to look off to his left. "And the on to the inevitable, Echo Snake-infested bog we'll find before we reach the next river? No thanks. I'll stick to the canyon ahead and the simple path that our lovely guide Hish'ka is making for us."

Jay frowned, following his gaze into the wild jungle off to the left of the group. He was focusing on something off in the distance. She nudged him and said, "What's got you so distracted?"

Lee didn't answer, though his face suddenly stretched into a wide grin and he stepped away from the group. He broke into a jog, heading away from the path they had carved through the foliage. With a cheery laugh, he gestured over his shoulder and called, "Come on! You're going to want to see this!"

Jay glanced around herself. "What about the others?"

"They'll be stuck pushing the Post Lizard out of the way for at least the next ten minutes. Now come on!"

Vhetin appeared at her shoulder, seemingly melting from out of thin air as usual. He folded his arms and nodded after Lee, who had disappeared into the jungle. "What's gotten into him?"

Jay shrugged. "Dunno. I think he saw something. Want to go check it out?"

"Couldn't hurt," he replied. He waved to Tamai and called, "We're heading off to scout for a bit. Call us if there's any progress moving the Beast with No Brain."

"Will do," the fair-haired Ranger replied, still watching the sisters battle with the reptilian barrier. "Be careful out there. I'll come and grab you if we set off again. My estimate's five minutes."

At the front of the group, Hish'ka Che'daje let out a shout of frustration and discharged her pistol straight at the lizard's blocky forehead. The blaster bolt popped harmlessly against its thick hide, and the creature just blinked slowly in response.

Tamai grimaced and tried to hide a grin. "Make that fifteen minutes. Hopefully Che'daje doesn't go ballistic and burn the forest down to get that thing moving."

Vhetin nodded and gestured after Lee. "You heard the lady. We have fifteen minutes to find out what the hell our friend Lee is thinking. Ladies first."

Jay grinned at him and made a mock-curtsey. "Such a gentleman today."

"I try."

They found Lee not far from the expedition group, standing over a large, overgrown tangle of weeds. Vhetin frowned as he approached; it looked like nothing more than an overgrown rock, about as tall as Lee's chest. Yet there was a grin plastered on the Ranger's face that looked like it was going to tear his face in two.

"Get over here!" he called to them. "You're going to want to see this beauty. Oh-ho, are you two in for a treat!"

Vhetin frowned even deeper as he and Jay approached the overgrown rock. "What's got you so worked up? Running off into this jungle's a good way to get yourself killed, you know."

"Oh, don't lecture me on how to survive in this jungle, _net'burc'ya_. I've been doing jungle tours here since I was fifteen years old. That's how I know what_ this _is."

He drew a short blade from somewhere down his gauntlet and began hacking away at the vines and leaves covering the hump in the ground before him. Vhetin was about to ask what was so important about a weed-choked rock when a slice of vines fell away to reveal the sharp, engraved lines of thick durasteel armor plating.

Vhetin cocked his head, more confused than ever. "What the hell is _that_?"

Lee laughed, yanking more weeds from the object in front of them. As more and more was revealed, Vhetin realized that it was no rock; it was a massive machine, made from heavy, interlocking durasteel plates that swooped and curved in a manner unlike any device he had ever seen. It had four leg-like appendages, made of a thick and powerful-looking mixture of tangled conduit wires and thick plates of interlocking armor. Near the shoulders were large, swooping wing-like constructions that blended back into the thick, segmented tail that stretched out behind it. The whole device was colored a dark, mottled green, worn to a dull orange in many places by thick patches of rust and weathering.

Jay stepped forward and ran a hand along the plane of one armored plate. Her eyes were wide and flashed with a familiar curiosity as she murmured, "It's beautiful. What is it?"

Lee ripped a tangle of vines from what looked like a blocky, rectangular processing unit, in the center of a mess of cylindrical rusted blaster cannons that made up the machine's "head". He stepped back, brushing off his gloves, and proudly said, "_This_ is a TX-25 Basilisk War Droid. A defunct unit, of course. It's probably been sitting in this jungle for the last two thousand years."

Vhetin's eyes widened. "Wait, wait, wait… _this_ is a Basilisk Droid?"

Lee nodded, his grin growing – if possible – even wider. "Pretty neat, huh? We occasionally find these scrap heaps out here in the jungles, usually when we're exploring new territory. The _Werda Kurs_ has the largest concentration of ancient Mandalorian strongholds across the planet. The old Neo-Crusaders used this jungle as a safe haven during the Mandalorian Wars, so the place is just _littered_ with Old Republic tech."

He knelt down and nudged at the boxy processing unit, taking note of the telltale burn marks of carbon scoring along the droid's chassis. "Looks like this baby took some turbolaser fire, probably from a Republic fighter. It was shot down."

He gestured behind the droid, to a deep overgrown ditch that stretched out into the jungle beyond. "Carved that path in the jungle when it crashed. Wonder what happened to the rider…"

Jay looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "You mean you guys used to _ride_ these things?"

Lee nodded. "They were the pride and joy of the early _Mando'ade_. Entire systems would shiver in their boots when a Mandalorian fleet passed by. These babies and their riders could operate in the vacuum of space _and_ tunnel into a planet's atmosphere to attack the ground."

Vhetin nodded. "Doing so was considered a rite of passage for the riders. They would train with their droids. Bond with them until they fought almost as a single unit."

Jay shook her head in wonder. "It sounds remarkably advanced for a war droid."

"Not surprising," Lee said, still tinkering with the droid's processor. "Basilisk Droids possessed rudimentary artificial intelligence. About the same level of intelligence you'd see from an animal like a Kath Hound or an Akk Dog. They would bond with their riders and make for a deadly team."

"So what happened? To the droids, I mean. If they were so lethal, why don't you use them today?"

"Well to start with we lost the aforementioned Wars and the Republic ordered us to decommission all of our Basilisks. Those who didn't obey had their droids forcibly taken and destroyed. With those restrictions - and the inevitable penalties for reactivating them - the art of _making_ the buggers just kind of… faded away."

"That's… actually kind of sad."

Vhetin folded his arms, still disbelieving. "So what do you do now? When you find these wrecks in the jungle?"

"We usually get a transport out here and haul them back to Outpost Aurek," Lee explained. "We still aren't allowed to try and repair them – and I'm not sure we'd know how, even if we were allowed – but we can occasionally scrap them for valuable parts or sell them to wealthy collectors. You wouldn't believe what these babies fetch on the market these days."

He grimaced, fumbling with something inside the processor. "But… that doesn't mean… we can't work a little tech magic on her."

Something popped inside the device and Lee cried, "There!"

He hopped back – as did Vhetin and Jay – as a deep hum suddenly erupted from the machine. Yellow status lights flared to life, and the entire contraption let out a violent shudder. A jet of steam shot from one of the ruptured conduits, scaring a flock of birds in the branches overhead. Sparks danced across the surface, showering into the air from a large rupture of twisted metal along its spine.

Jay's eyes were wide, and her hands had unconsciously drifted up to cover her mouth. Vhetin was wearing a similar expression of awe behind the faceplate of his helmet.

"Is it…" Jay hesitated. "Is it safe? Did you just turn it on?"

"Not quite," Lee said, his voice a little sad now. "She's only got enough juice left in her for a few minutes at most. Essential systems only. I just thought she deserved a more proper send-off than being left to rot in the jungle."

They slowly approached the droid once more, watching as it sluggishly began to move its arms and legs. Its tail dragged weakly back and forth through the foliage, rustling the leaves and vines from its housing. It tried to rise up to a standing position, but another conduit ruptured and it collapsed forward into the dirt again with a synthetic moan. One of its three-pronged hands clawed at the jungle floor, leaving deep rivets in the dirt as the droid struggled to rise.

Lee knelt next to the droid's head once again, stroking the tangle of blaster cannons affectionately, like it was a living creature. "Shh," he cooed. "It's all right. We've got you, _mesh'la_."

The droid moaned again and shifted its head toward him, then fell limp once again. Lee looked up at them and nodded to the droid's chassis.

"Go on. She won't bite."

Jay inched forward, bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet before reaching out to brush her fingers once more along the durasteel plating along the droid's back. It flinched at her touch, letting out a keening groan, and Jay hopped away with a frightened squeak. But Lee never moved, continuing to pet its head and whispering softly to it.

"There, there," he said. "It's all right. You're back among _Mando'ade_. Nothing's going to hurt you now."

The Basilisk shuddered again, its tail still sluggishly rustling through the underbrush. Vhetin approached the droid at a slow, cautious pace and knelt on the other side of its head. He slowly reached out and patted the thick, armor-plated neck. The droid's chassis flinched a little less this time, and it released a synthetic groan that sounded almost like a robotic purr.

"There we go," Lee murmured. "See? It's all fine now. It's all fine."

Vhetin shook his head. "It's… amazing. I never thought I'd see one of these droids functioning."

Lee grinned at him. "Just imagine what she must have been like two millennia ago. Roaring through the clouds, snatching fighters out of the air with nothing but her servo-manipulators. She must have been the _dush'shebs _to end all _dush'shebs_."

Vhetin slowly ran his hand along the rusted armor plating, listening to steam hiss out from somewhere deep inside the damaged droid. He sighed and said, "It's a shame she was lost here in the jungle for so long. Being little more than a scratching post for Kalo Wolves and Force-knows what else."

"Doesn't matter," Lee said. "She's back among the Mandos now. That's all that's important. Isn't that right, _mesh'la_?"

Jay reached out to touch the creature's spine again. But before her fingertips could brush the surface the droid shuddered once more and all the status lights suddenly blinked out. Its tail fell still and the smoke venting from broken power conduits puffed away into nothingness. A slow whirr began to cycle down, and the droid's entire chassis slowly relaxed, growing limp and unresponsive. After a few moments, it was as still and silent as it had been before.

Jay's eyes were stretched wide. "Is… Is it…?"

Lee nodded, bowing his head and closing his eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke.

"_Mar'eyir suum ca'nara, ori'dral beskar'ad. _You've earned it." He patted the head once more, then rose back to his feet with a weary sigh. "I like to kick some life back into these guys whenever I find them so I can give them a proper send-off. Oh, but don't tell the Ranger-Commander; she'd probably have me tarred and feathered if she knew."

"And what did you say to it?" Jay asked. "Just now?"

Vhetin answered for the Ranger, straightening as well. "_May you find rest now, mighty machine._"

Lee shrugged. "I'm no poet. But it's the least I can do to honor these mounts and the men who rode them."

"That was," Vhetin struggled for words, "one of the most amazing things I've ever seen."

Lee grinned, though there was a trace of sadness in the expression now. "Life as a Ranger has its perks. If you're into two-millennia-old artifacts of a bygone era, that is."

"Are you kidding?" Jay scoffed. "Kids play with toys of those droids in Keldabe. They're in novels and holovids and Force-knows what else. Do you know what most Mandos would give to see one of those things operational again?"

Lee shrugged. "Never gonna happen, I'm afraid. We haven't had working Basilisk droids on Mandalore in over a thousand years. And Shysa's not about to break those laws now."

Vhetin cleared his throat, still staring at the ruined frame of the droid. "We should probably get back to the others before we're missed."

"Do we have to?" Jay asked, sinking to her knees next to the droid's metallic corpse. She reached out and traced her fingers over the basilisk's housing, over heavy carbon scoring that marred its armored forearm. "This machine is amazing. We may never see one again, you know."

"It's not like we're under any time pressure," Lee agreed. "Those lizards are as dumb as a Dug and as stubborn as a Hutt. They don't move until they're ready to."

He chuckled as he craned his neck to study the basilisk's burnt-out processor. "In fact, there was this one time when Tamai and I were helping bring down some raiders. We used one of the Post Lizards to block an escape path. The thing worked better than a durasteel barricade! The raiders were stuck, with no way to…"

He trailed off, a look of dawning, horrified realization crossing his face. He glanced up at Vhetin who, unknown to him, had an identical expression. Jay quickly noticed their mirrored dismay and said, "What? What's wrong?"

Lee scrambled to his feet, grabbing Jay's arm and yanking her after him. "We have to get back to the others. Now!"

"What is it?"

The canopy suddenly erupted into motion, leaves shaking and branches jerking violently back and forth. Vhetin's helmet picked up multiple contacts racing through the treetops above his head, though they were little more than shadows amidst the endless green of the jungle. He drew his saber pike from its mount over his shoulder and ignited it as he took off after the others. As he ran, he heard the thunderous beat of battle drums crash through the trees.

_Sithspit,_ he thought as he raced through the underbrush. _They found us!_

Lee sprinted toward the distant figures of the expedition team in the distance. As soon as he was near enough, he raised his voice to its full volume and shouted with every ounce of strength he had.

"_Ambush!"_


	13. The True Enemy

Tamai sensed something was wrong as soon as the birds stopped calling. The jungle had gone entirely silent around her, save for the voices of the Mandalorians along the path they'd made. The Post Lizard slurped at its eye once more, but apart from that there were none of the normal sounds of a healthy jungle: no birds, no beasts, not even the whistling of the wind. Only dead silence.

Her hand reached down to grasp the hilt of her _beskad_, eyes narrowed as she watched the Post Lizard thrash its tail and stubbornly refuse to move.

Vhonte Tervho glanced over at her, noticing the motion. She cocked her helmeted head and murmured, "You feel it too?"

Tamai nodded, looking up at the trees surrounding them. She wished she could say that it felt like just before the previous attack, but that would be a lie; the last attack had been so fast, she hadn't had time to react before half her team was dead. She wouldn't be caught so unprepared a second time.

_Damn it_, she thought. _Lee and Cin should have been back by now._

"You think our mysterious Heart-Eaters are out there?"

Tervho nodded slowly. "I'd be surprised if they weren't."

"And your plan?"

Tervho's gaze didn't move from watching the front of the group. "Keep your hand on that sword. I think you'll need—"

She was interrupted when Norac Benz shoved past her shoulder, striding to the front of the group. He was scowling as he drew his _beskad_ from its sheath. "Enough of this nonsense."

Hish'ka saw his approach and held out her hand. "Wait! We have this under control!"

Benz ignored her. He walked up to the post lizard and pulled his sword from its sling over his shoulder. With a roar, he stabbed forward. His blade pierced deep into the lizard's forehead, a fountain of blood instantly spraying out from the wound. The lizard immediately went stiff. Its eyes widened, then rolled back in its head and it fell to the jungle floor with a crash that shook leaves from the trees above.

Benz looked down on the lizard's corpse with a sneer, nudging it with the tip of one armored boot. He wiped his bloodstained blade on his pant leg before sheathing it once more, then turned to the Cathar sisters with his cold blue eyes narrowed.

"There. Now you can walk over the bloody thing. Now let's get this walking bullseye on the move again."

Ranger-Commander Akh'shi shoved his shoulder. "What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?! We had it under control!"

Benz raised an eyebrow. "Didn't look like it from where I was standing, fur-face. But the problem's solved now. So let's move before someone decides to –"

A spear whistled out of the trees and hit him in the chest, knocking him off his feet. He grunted in surprise and crashed into the dirt, unmoving.

As one, his Berserkers drew their weapons, already prepared for a fight. Before anyone could move, another spear raced through the trees and felled a Ranger near the edge of the group. At that moment, Lee burst through the treeline, Jay close in tow. Vhetin sprinted after him a few seconds later, his saber pike lit in his hand.

"_Ambush!_"

His words seemed to snap the group out of its reverie and the soldiers all scattered to the nearest cover.

Tamai was already in motion, throwing herself behind a rocky outcropping just as a thick-shafted spear embedded itself in the mud at her feet. She hear a massive, furious roar from the trees, quickly drowned out by the thunderous beat of wardrums. She drew her saber and hefted it in a firm two-handed grip.

The Ranger-Commander shouted for her people to scatter. She hopped out of the way as a spear as tall as she was flew straight for her. It missed by centimeters, sinking into the soft dirt just behind her. She yanked the weapon from the ground and hurled it back in the direction it came before backpedaling and seeking shelter behind the trunk of a large tree.

_Just like last time_, Tamai thought, heart pounding. She clutched her sword close to her chest. _It's happening all over again._

The Rangers began returning fire, using spears or bows to send projectiles racing back into the trees. One Ranger stepped out from cover to gain a better position, but didn't make it far; a huge grey-skinned figure with long dreadlocks leaped from the canopy and tackled him around the waist. With a roar, the creature ripped the man's helmet loose and punched him hard in the face. It grabbed him by the throat and hauled him into the air, shouting at him in a harsh, guttural language Tamai couldn't quite make out.

Another Ranger came to his brother's aid, slashing his saber across the Heart-Eater's back. The creature shouted and tossed the helpless Ranger aside. It swiveled on its attacker and batted away another attack. It roared again, loud enough to make Tamai want to cover her ears, then planted its taloned foot against the man's chest and sent him sprawling.

Vhetin sprinted forward to the fallen man's aid, thrusting his saber forward and piercing the creature's chest. The Heart-Eater doubled over as the glowing lightsaber blade stabbed deep into its body. It didn't even slow down, though. It grabbed Vhetin's arm and ripped the blade free, shoving Vhetin away with a roar.

Vhetin covered his head as an arrow whistled by him, far too close for comfort. The Heart-Eater took advantage of his distraction to leap back into the trees and out of sight. In seconds, it was as if he was never there.

Tamai ducked down behind her rock as an arrow hissed over her. Before she could move position, Norac Benz staggered into cover with her, a hand held to his bleeding chest. Tamai glanced at him with wide eyes.

"I thought you were dead."

"So did I." He grimaced, looking down at the blood that soaked his hands. "Thankfully, I'm not so easy to kill."

He grabbed a fallen spear from the ground next to him and hurled it into the trees. There was no accompanying shout of fear, no falling body from the canopy. Seconds later, another spear came slashing through the air at him. Benz ducked down out of the way and punched the stone next to his head.

"How can I fight an enemy that doesn't _show_ himself?"

The Ranger-Commander staggered further away into the trees, retreating under a hail of arrows. Her sister covered her with quick, precise shots from her pistol. Tamai got the feeling she had been saving her ammunition for an occurrence just like this.

"Retreat!" Akh'shi called. A Berserker standing at her shoulder crumpled to the ground with two arrows embedded deep in his throat. She cursed and grabbed him under the shoulders, pulling him into the safety of the treeline. "Fall back into the jungle!"

An unearthly roar met her words, echoing through the trees. Tamai covered her head as another arrow ricocheted off the stone nearby. She shoved Norac Benz' shoulder. "Go! Head for the trees!"

He growled and sprinted in the direction of the other Rangers, shouting for his men to fall back. Jay barreled across the path, hot on the clanmaster's tail. Tamai was about to follow them when there was a massive _thud_ from above her. She spun and leveled her sword, scrambling away from cover.

A tall, lanky creature unfolded itself from a predatory crouch, regarding her with blazing yellow eyes. It cocked its head at her, dreadlocks streaming out around its head, and hefted a long and angular spear in its hands. Tamai stumbled in her retreat, tumbling to the dirt as the creature advanced on her and roared at her again.

"_Jii_ _ash'amur, aruetii_!"

Tamai's eyes stretched wide, her mouth dropping open. _Mando'a_, even spoken in such a harsh and guttural tongue, was unmistakable. The Heart-Eater leaped down from the stone and stepped toward her, towering high above her as it raised its spear in preparation for a killing blow.

The sharp report of a blaster shot cut through the din of battle and a bright red bolt of plasma screamed through the air, hitting the Heart-Eater in the chest. The creature doubled over and pressed a hand to its wound, letting out a surprised gurgle.

A hand roughly grabbed Tamai's arm and hauled her to her feet. She was roughly pushed behind the protective barrier of Vhonte Tervho's blood-red armor while the bounty huntress advanced, her heavy combat pistol raised. Tervho fired twice more, hitting the Heart-Eater in the stomach and shoulder respectively. Her pistol clicked empty and she threw it aside into the dirt and grabbed the sword from Tamai's grasp.

"Stay behind me," Tervho snapped. "Get to the trees while you can."

"Are you crazy? That thing will kill you!"

As if to reinforce her words, the _Kar'ta-Epar_ stood to its full height again and roared, loud enough to overload the audio receptors in Tamai's helmet. She covered her ears and flinched away, but Tervho stood steadfast.

"Come on then, _demagolka_," she hissed. "I haven't got all day."

The Heart-Eater reared up to strike. Before the blow could land, however, another lanky figure plummeted from the tree-tops to land between them. Unlike the other, this Heart-Eater was wearing makeshift armor crafted from leather and carved wood. A disturbingly familiar battle mask with a T-shaped visor covered its face, with twin eye insignias painted across the forehead.

It held out a hand to Tervho and in a garbled, twisted voice it cried, "_Peese! Peece!_"

Tervho hesitated, her sword hand faltering. Tamai took advantage of the lull to grab Tervho's arm and pull her back toward the trees. The captain resisted, but Tamai shouted, "Come on! We have to go!"

"Where?"

"_Anywhere_!"

Behind her, the wounded Heart-Eater roared and surged forward to headbutt its ally out of the way. The masked creature stumbled and fell to the ground. The first roared out another challenge of, "_Akaanir, hutuun'e_!"

It didn't make it far before its fallen ally scrambled back to its feet and tackled it around the waist, driving both to the ground. The ensuing scuffle gave Tamai enough time to yank the captain into the treeline, to safety.

~~~~~~~~

Vhetin sprinted through the trees, using his lightsaber to carve away any tree branches or shrubs that stood in his way. He could hear heavy footsteps behind him, could see shadowy figures darting through the trees all around.

He threw himself around the bend of a thick tree, slashing horizontally and forcing his glowing saber through the trunk. He dragged the blade sideways, until he heard the telltale crack of splintering wood. He heard his pursuers shout to each other and saw them leaping away lest they be crushed beneath the falling tree. He used the distraction to sprint deeper into the jungle.

He didn't know where the rest of the group was. He didn't know where Jay had sought refuge, or if Tamai had made it to safety. As soon as he had reached the trees and prepared to counterattack, three figures had slipped down from the canopy in pursuit. He hadn't stopped running since.

He vaulted over a tangle of gnarled roots, trying to remember the Handmaiden's freerunning training. It was difficult to move as she had instructed, especially in his heavy battle plate. But as long as he stayed a step ahead of the Heart-Eaters on his tail, he should be fine.

His motion tracker showed five contacts in pursuit now, moving almost as fast as he was. He glanced over his shoulder and saw nothing but dark jungle.

"_Shab!" _he shouted. The river they had forded earlier in the afternoon couldn't be far from his position. Maybe if he made it to the water, the threat of an Echo Snake attack would ward off the _Kar'ta Epar'e_. It was a terrible plan, but the only one he had.

One of the contacts suddenly jumped to the front of his motion tracker, and a lanky grey-skinned creature dropped from the trees above him with sword held high. Vhetin pivoted and brought his lightsaber up to attack. There was a shower of sparks and a crackle of energy from his saber and he found his blow deflected by the Heart-Eater's blade. He stumbled, momentarily losing his footing as the creature landed on all fours just behind him, also driven off balance by the ricochet. Then he turned and sprinted faster than before.

_So now they're using _beskar_ weaponry_, he thought. _Just lovely._

He could hear them shouting and hooting all around him, the leaves of the treetops rustling overhead. Two more contacts joined the five already pursuing him, then three more.

_To the river_, he kept thinking. _Just have to get to the river._

He didn't make it. An arrow whistled through the trees and hit him just above the hip, sliding along his stomach plate and embedding itself in his side. He shouted in pain and stumbled, but kept running. Another arrow hit him in the back of the calf, where no armor protected him. He ignored the jarring pain and forced himself to keep running.

But he couldn't stop himself from slowing under his wounds. His arms and legs were growing stiff and unresponsive, his head suddenly very heavy.

_Toxin_! the analytical side of his brain shouted. _A tranquilizer_. _They want you alive._

He wouldn't give them the satisfaction. He pivoted, skidding to a halt and sending fallen leaves flying as he hefted his pike in both hands. He saw three of the grey-skinned aliens skid to a halt, spears or swords held up in challenge. They roared and screeched at him. Their yellow eyes blazed in the shadow of the jungle floor.

"Come on!" he shouted, brandishing his weapon at them. They wisely stayed beyond reach.

He stepped forward to attack but his HUD blared a new contact warning. He spun to cover his six a moment too late. Something heavy hit him in the back of the neck, driving him forward onto his hands and knees. The three Heart-Eaters in front of him surged forward now. Their hooting and shouting overloaded all other sounds filtering through his audio receptors.

The first kicked him hard in the faceplate, knocking him over onto his back. The motion snapped the arrow lodged in his leg and he shouted at the fresh surge of pain. Before he could move to defend himself, another ripped his helmet away and punched him hard in the face. He felt blood pouring from his nose and tried to push himself back, away from the creatures that swarmed him. But the hard heel of an alien foot caught him in the forehead, knocking him back against the ground and sending his head spinning.

For a few moments, all he could hear was their shouting. Then, through hazy vision he saw a new figure fall from the treetops. Unlike the others, this one had its long dreadlocks pulled back in a tight braid, and its face was covered by a roughly-pounded _beskar_ battle mask with an all-too-familiar T-shaped visor. A tattered red cape fell from its shoulders; the remnants of a Ranger flag. It hefted a long, dual-sided spear in one hand and its body was covered by rough metal armor, coarse and shabby like its mask.

The other _Kar'ta Epar'e_ shrank away at the sight of this newcomer. The caped creature strode up to Vhetin, lying panting and limp on the ground. It watched him with a cocked head, then sniffed and muttered, "_Laandur. Ni'duraa."_

It turned to the others and barked, "_Mircir te osi'yaim. Jii'iviin'yc!"_

The others bowed their heads in acknowledgement, then rushed forward to grab Vhetin. As they drew close, he finally caught a good look at them, in the light and out of the trees. His heart almost stopped in his chest.

He recognized their faces. Their high, angular cheekbones. Their angry, downturned mouths. Their thin chins swooping down to end in a sharp point…

"You…" he sputtered as they hauled him to his feet. "That's impossible! You're _Taung_!"

The leader's head snapped up at the word, and it turned back to him with a low growl in the back of its throat. It slowly reached down and scooped up his fallen lightsaber staff from the forest floor. It inspected the hilt of the staff, then grabbed it in both hands and whipped the pike across Vhetin's face.

There was a flash of light, then nothing.

~~~~~~~~

Jay didn't know how long she ran with the others. The entire jungle seemed to be erupting with action all around her; branches waving, men shouting, birds flying chaotically overhead as they fled the commotion. Her brain could barely keep up.

The group was in shambles. Half their number were either dead or missing from the ambush. She didn't even know who had made it, as the Ranger-Commander had demanded they keep running as far and as fast as their legs could carry them.

She sprinted around a tree and stumbled as her foot caught on an upturned root. She sprawled into the dust with a cry, scrambling to get back to her feet again. A pair of rough hands grabbed her arms and hauled her back to her feet.

"Try to stay upright, _aruetii_," Norac Benz's rough voice growled just behind her. "You're no good to us dead."

She took off again, struggling to spot the remaining Rangers and Berserkers through the trees.

"What happened back there?" she shouted, grimacing as a branch whipped across her face.

Norac Benz sprinted alongside her, seemingly unbothered by the heavy weight of the _beskar_ shield strapped across his back. "Ambush. Those kriffing beasts shoved that lizard in our way to distract us. Must've known the Ranger-Commander would try to move it instead of just killing it outright. The whole thing was a trap."

"Have you seen Vhetin? Or Tamai? Any of the others?"

"Lee got himself dragged off into the trees," Benz hissed, leaping over a boulder half his size. "Tamai took off into the jungle with Vhonte. As for your black-painted boyfriend, I have no idea. If he's lucky, they killed him quick."

She cursed and willed her legs to carry her faster. She could still hear the wardrums pounding in the distance, barely overpowering the ravenous cries of the Heart-Eaters still in the clearing they had left. It was a victory cry; they had successfully chased away the intruders to their territory.

Jay cursed as she pushed a low-hanging branch from her eyes and continued running. How could they have blundered into such an obvious trap? They all should have known better than to stay in the open for so long.

In retrospect, she now realized how lucky she was to have been wandering off with Lee and Vhetin when the attack it; it had probably saved her life. If she had been stuck with the others, she could have easily been the one with a spear embedded in her chest.

The Ranger-Commander brought the group to a halt after twenty minutes of flat-out sprinting. Almost everyone present was doubled over and gasping for breath, some holding stitches in their sides while others clutched at their wounds. Akh'shi rested her hands on her knee plates and managed to gasp, "Head count!"

Norac Benz was already walking among his men, taking stock of the survivors. "I counted five dead in the ambush, with another four dragged off by those beasts. We lost Vhetin, Vasser, and Tervho in the scuffle, and Pedrass fell behind during the run."

"That leaves what?" Che'daje asked. "Ten of us left?"

"Eight."

The Cathar warrior shouted a curse and punched her armored fist into a nearby tree trunk, hard enough to carve a chunk from the hard wood. She looked back to what remained of the group, blue eyes raking over the assembled Rangers and Berserkers.

"Hish'ka?" she called. "Hish'ka, where are you?"

"Gone," Benz said, his voice hard and unsympathetic. "Your sister got dragged off with the others."

Che'daje's eyes widened in shock, but she said nothing. She turned away and took a few moments to catch her breath, then said, "All right. Get your wits about you and prepare to move. We continue the march in five minutes."

"Are you crazy?" one of the Berserkers said. She glanced at Benz, then shook her head incredulously. "After an ambush like that, we're still moving forward?"

"We have a job to do," the Ranger-Commander said. "It's more important than ever to establish contact with the _Kar'ta Epar'e_. If we can broker peace, we may be able to get our missing men back."

"I don't know what battle you just slogged through," Benz hissed, "but those things didn't seem all that interested in peace."

"We have our orders—"

"_Kriff_ our orders!" Benz shouted. He advanced on Che'daje with clenched fists. "Those things _slaughtered_ our team and spirited the rest off to Force-knows-where. You think they're setting our boys up for a nice tea party? You think they're going to be treated to wine and cheese and fluffy pillows?"

His ice-blue eyes narrowed. "These things want to _exterminate _us, Commander. And they won't stop until we grow a backbone and start killing them back."

Che'daje didn't back down. "We are here to establish diplomatic communication. _Not_ to start a war."

"Look back at that clearing, Cathar," Benz spat. "They already started the war. Now it's up to us to finish it, and failing that, make them regret starting it in the first place."

There was a chorus of hearty agreements from the remaining Berserkers. He gestured to his remaining men; five in all, making up the majority of the group. "My men know jungles like this. We _know_ guerilla warfare. And we can make these bastards fear us the way they should."

"No," Che'daje said. "Stand down, Benz. I won't ask you again."

Jay decided to pitch in. "What we should do is head back to Outpost Aurek. Regardless of what happens next, we're going to need reinforcements. At the very least we should let the Rangers know what's going on."

The Ranger-Commander reluctantly nodded. "That's… not a bad plan. Regroup and resupply."

"And leave our people with the Heart-Eaters?" Benz growled. "They won't last while we sit back and twiddle our thumbs. We need _action_, not strategy!"

"For any action, we need _weapons_," Jay pressed. "We need _soldiers_. If you want to come back and burn this forest to the ground, that's your decision. But you can't do it with only eight men."

Benz narrowed his eyes to slits, his mouth pressed into a thin line. But after what seemed like an eternity, he nodded and said, "You're smarter than you look, Moqena."

"I try to be."

He glanced back at his Berserkers. "What do you think, _vode_? Should we get the rest of our people?"

The affirmative response was much more reluctant this time. One of the Berserkers – a bearded man with an arrow wound in his shoulder – sniffed and said, "We'd stand a better chance with an army of us, Norac. I say we get all of our _vode_ into this jungle. They can't stand up to the full force of the Mountain Clans."

"Well said." Benz adjusted the shield slung across his back and gestured to the Ranger-Commander. "You win, Che'daje. We'll follow your lead, at least for now."

The Ranger-Commander nodded, but Benz wasn't finished. He stepped toward her and snarled, "But when we get back, me and my boys are going to cut down each and every one of those tree-hopping sons of bitches. Blood demands blood. Even an _aruetii_ like you should understand that."

He gestured for his men to fall out. "You'd be wise to not stand in our way next time."

Jay glanced at the Ranger-Commander, who only responded with an exhausted shrug. With a hesitant peace established, they set off together into the depths of the jungle. Jay took one last glance over her shoulder, at the dark jungle they were leaving behind.

_I hope you're still alive, Cin_, she thought. _If you die on me now, your ass is mine._


	14. Heart Eaters

Vhetin woke to the sound of hushed, whispering voices. Then, an angry spike of pain raced through his forehead, making him groan and cover his face with his hands. His vision swam with stars, but it ever-so-slowly began to return.

A rough stone roof stretched over his head, dark and dank. He tried to crane his neck around to get a better look at his surroundings, but quickly decided moving was not a good idea. His neck was stiff and tense, and the slightest motion pulsed dangerously up and down his spine.

A hand fell on his shoulder. "Take it slow. That must have been a hell of a blow you took."

Vhetin blinked, his vision resolving and becoming even sharper. He looked up and saw familiar slate-gray armor in the shadowy cave where he was lying. The other man's armor was scuffed and his flight suit torn, but he was still unmistakable.

"Lee?"

Lee sighed wearily and sat back, shaking his head with a relieved chuckle. He had a dark black eye and a gash down the side of his face. "In the flesh. For the moment, at least."

Vhetin reached up and found a purchase on what felt like thick wooden bars. With difficulty he hoisted himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the protest from his neck and back. Thankfully it seemed his captors had found little use for his armor. He was still wearing his full kit, helmet and all. His armor's self-diagnostic systems told him he had two cracked ribs, a sprained wrist, and more bruises than he could count.

_All in all_, he thought, _not as bad as I thought. I thought I was never going to wake up_.

He put a hand to the helmet dome at his forehead. "Ugh. Where are we? What happened?"

"If you're as unlucky as I am, you got yanked off into the trees during the ambush." Lee gestured to his cut face and bruised eye. "And if you're as stupid as I am, you tried to fight back."

He leaned back against rough-hewn wooden bars keeping them penned in. A prison; they were in a prison. The walls were rough stone with the scraping and etchings of hundreds of prisoners, and Vhetin could hear coughing and moaning from somewhere behind him.

When his vision finally began to clear and adjust to the darkness, he saw there were other Mandalorians penned in with them, splayed about in various states of injury or unconsciousness. He recognized many from the expedition team, while others had haggard looks and scraggly bears that signified a much longer period of captivity.

His heart began to pound. He was locked up and isolated; a prisoner once again. Just like the Facility. Just like the sewers during the Caranthyr bombings. He couldn't be locked up again, couldn't stand to live the life of a prisoner again.

_I won't_, he thought, mind racing with thoughts like flies buzzing over carrion._ I won't let this happen again. I'll die before being locked up in another cage. I'll go down fighting the guards, or rip down the doors, or…_

He closed his eyes, balling his hands into fists and forcing himself to take deep breaths. Unlike the Facility, there was still hope he could make it out of this. He just needed to keep a calm, level head and things would be all right. The last thing this situation needed was him losing his mind.

Lee noticed his tension and said, "You look like shit."

"It's…" Vhetin grimaced. "Claustrophobia. It'll pass."

Lee narrowed his eyes, his gaze saying he didn't believe a word that came out of Vhetin's mouth. But he wisely stayed silent and just leaned back against the bars again, holding one arm against his side.

Vhetin turned his attention away from the slate-gray Mandalorian and began to take stock of their prison. It was a surprisingly wide cave, but not very deep; maybe only fifteen feet or so from the bars, the stone ceiling suddenly sloped down straight to the ground. It created a natural overhang that the Taung had wisely converted into a pen for their captives.

There were just over fifteen Mandalorians penned in, though none of them were overly familiar. Vhetin breathed a sigh of relief at that; both Tamai and Jay were missing, suggesting they had avoided capture. Unfortunately for him, it looked like Captain Tervho had also managed to escape. He cursed in his head and thought, _things would be much simpler if we had a fighter like her on our side._

He didn't make it far in his survey before his eyes fell on the thick stone stalactite some distance away. It was as wide as a tree trunk, and stretched down from the ceiling all the way to the floor. And bound to the monolith by a length of thorny, twisted vines was a Heart Eater.

"What's _he_ doing here?"

Lee glanced up and noticed Vhetin's gaze. "Ah, so you've recognized our guest."

The Heart Eater's thick dreadlocks were hanging over his angular face and his chest and shoulders were covered by an intricate series of ritualistic tattoos not dissimilar to Vhetin's own. He'd been stripped down to his undergarments and was bleeding from several deep lacerations along his chest and shoulders. He'd been whipped with a barbed lash. Hard.

Lee shrugged, then winced and held his ribs tighter. "Dunno. He got tossed in here with the haul from the ambush. Whoever he is, he's not popular with the locals."

Vhetin grimaced as he straightened against the bars, every muscle aching in protest of the action. "Any idea why?"

"Not a clue. No one's been able to get a word out of him. And trust me, we've been trying. He's awake, but he won't talk."

"I think I can get him to speak up," Vhetin said, rising to a crouch.

"You think so? The guy could be mute for all you know."

"No," Vhetin said. "You' just haven't been asking the right questions."

He knelt in front of the bound Heart Eater and cocked his head.

"Hey," he said, gesturing to the T-visor of his helmet. "Look at me. _Ja'hailir ni_. _Jii, gedet'ye_."

That got the creature's attention. Its head snapped up, regarding him with those fiery yellow eyes. Its nose scrunched as it huffed out a breath. Then its lips twitched and it looked at the ground once more.

Vhetin didn't back down. "_Ke'ja'hailir ni!_"

Those eyes returned. Its lips contracted into a thin line, then it spoke. Its voice was a grating rumble, like the snarl of a predatory kath hound. Every syllable seemed to radiate power and malevolence, and the creature's hands clenched into fists as it spoke.

"_Ni ganar naasad mite. Nu draar_."

Vhetin rested his arms on his thighs, cocking his head. "So you _can_ speak. Even if you don't want to."

Lee rose to his feet and knelt at Vhetin's side. "I almost thought you didn't recognize him."

Vhetin held the Heart Eater's gaze, regarding the alien just as coldly as it was regarding him. "Hard to not recognize the ancestor race. Especially here on Mandalore."

"The Taung were supposed to have died out millennia ago," Lee hissed. "What the hell is going on here?"

Vhetin shook his head. "I don't know. When they caught me, were shouting to each other in _Mando'a. _There was one of them… it wore a cape. Shouted orders to them. I think it was their leader."

He looked back to the imprisoned creature. "_Ke'gar. Tion gar gai?_"

The response was predictable: a shaking head and a mutter of, "_Nayc. Nu draar_."

"_Jorhaa'ir_!"

The blazing golden eyes fixed on him again. Vhetin could see the debate warring there. It wanted to talk, no matter how much it was resisting. For some reason, it had fallen out of favor with its fellows. Vhetin could only hope that it could listen to reason.

_Hopefully the Ranger-Commander was right and there are a few of the _Kar'ta Epar'e_ who are interested in reaching out. Looks like they've gone through some severe brainwashing, though._

"_Tion gar gai?" _Vhetin said again. He tried to make his voice commanding, but not threatening. This Heart Eater knew it was vulnerable. Making it feel like it was not under threat was the only way it would open up. "What's your name? _Tion gar gai?_"

There was a long pause. Then:

"_Werd'cetara_."

Vhetin nodded. "All right. Shadow-Walker. Your name is Shadow-Walker."

The Heart-Eater grunted noncommittally. Vhetin forged ahead, determined not to lose the progress they had made. He placed his hand against his chest plates in a gesture of welcome. "_Ni gai _Cin Vhetin."

The creature looked him up and down, then spat, "_Gar gai beskar'jag_."

"Metal-man," Vhetin translated. "That's your word for us? We're metal-men to you?"

Werd'cetara nodded. _"Aruetii beskar'jag_."

Lee shook his head. "No, no. We're not foreigners. We're Mandalorians like you. Or… like you used to be. Do you understand? _Ni Mando'ad_."

The creature suddenly lunged at him, its restraints snapping tight. It strained against the bonds and snarled, "_Nu'haat! Gar aruetiise_. _Ni, Mando'ad_."

Lee recoiled, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. Werd slowly relaxed back against his restraints and Lee rubbed his forehead in confusion. "Now I'm more confused than ever. He's saying that _he's_ Mandalorian, but we're not?"

"What can you expect?" Vhetin said. "They've been living in isolation for the past three centuries. Maybe even longer. It's possible they don't even know there are other Mandos planet wide."

Werd glanced between the two, his angular face pulled down in a furious scowl. Vhetin and Lee listened intently, translating in their heads when the Heart Eater spoke again.

"_You are with the metal-men who seek to invade our lands?_"

"_Invade_?" Vhetin replied, glancing at Lee. "_No one said anything about invasion._"

"_You come into our jungles_," Werd hissed, "_armed with weapons of war. We hear you plotting and scheming from our trees. You seek to drive us from these lands_."

"_We didn't know you were _on_ these lands_," Lee replied. "_We didn't know anyone was here but the local wildlife_."

"_Ignorance does not excuse you."_

Werd let his head fall again and tapered off into silence. Vhetin glanced at Lee, then called to the Taung warrior once more. "_Why are you tied up here with us?_"

"_Does it matter? I am prisoner, same as you_."

"_It matters to us_."

Werd sniffed, his long brown dreadlocks shaking slightly. "_I argued for peace between our clans. I thought we could learn from the metal-men instead of simply killing them. Maybe we could even resurrect the holy serpents. But my father disagreed. He wants a show of force. He wants you dead_."

"_Your father?"_ Vhetin echoed. "_He's the one with the cape, isn't he?"_

_"He is our Mandalore_," Werd rumbled. "_He who protects us from the metal men and their weapons of burning light."_

Lee let out a long breath, muttering in Basic. "They must have been in this jungle for longer than we thought if they're calling blasters _weapons of burning light_."

"_When your clan came under attack_," Werd continued. "_I refused to slaughter your kind with my brethren. I tried to stop the attack and struck a fellow warrior. For that, I was lashed and imprisoned."_

Vhetin narrowed his eyes. "_But you truly wanted peace?"_

Werd didn't look at him. "_It would have been better to simply kill your kind and be done with it. Standing against my father brought me no fortune."_

Vhetin glanced over at Lee, then turned back to Werd. "_You mentioned holy serpents. What are they_?"

"_The great machines," _the Taung replied. "_They lie dormant in the jungle, waiting for those who are worthy to breathe life into their cold bones. Many have tried. None have succeeded_."

"Kriff me," Lee muttered. "They're talking about the Basilisks, aren't they? If they manage to reactivate them…"

"They could wipe out all the Rangers in the jungle," Vhetin finished. "And not even break a sweat."

Werd nodded, obviously understanding even though they were not speaking in _Mando'a_. "_My people do not see the wisdom of compromise. They are warriors to the very soul, and will not tolerate your people's intrusion into their lands_."

Vhetin was about to say more when the thunder of drums drowned out his words. He and Lee both looked to the source of the beat just in time to see two Taung warriors drop from the trees outside and bark at their prisoners. Both were holding sharp spears with chipped _beskar_ points. They ripped open the cage doors and grabbed the nearest prisoner under the arms, hauling him out of the cage. Several of the man's compatriots rushed to his aid, but were swiftly kicked back by the larger Heart Eaters. The smartest of the prisoners, who had been imprisoned for a longer period, shrank away to the back of the prison and covered their heads.

"Something tells me," Lee muttered as he and Vhetin both moved closer to the bars to watch the proceedings, "that he didn't just roll the lucky number on the early release program."

"Shut up," Vhetin said. The time for sitting idle was over. They needed to break out of here and help that man.

He grabbed the wooden bars that barricaded the mouth of the cave and began to pull with all his might. He heard the material begin to bend and splinter under his hands when Lee's hand grabbed his wrist.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Vhetin scowled behind his helmet faceplate. "What does it look like I'm doing? Breaking us out of here. That man needs our help."

"And then what? This place isn't exactly inconspicuous. Those Taung will see you and then we'll all die."

Vhetin stared down at the thick wooden poles that barred their escape. It would be so effortless to rip apart these cage bars. He'd been able to break out of far worse prisons than this. For kriff's sake, he still had his _lightsaber_.

But Lee squeezed his arm insistently, his voice low and harsh. "These guys are _Mando-killers_, _vod_. Until we get reinforcements, we can't win this."

"So what do you propose? Just sitting here and waiting to be picked off one-by-one? You're willing to let that man die?"

"If it means saving the rest of us," Lee said, "and potentially the entire border guard of the _Werda Kurs_, then yes. It's the right thing."

It didn't particularly fell like the right thing. But Vhetin could hear the wisdom in Lee's words. So he bit back a curse and released the bars. "Fine. Then what are we going to do? Sit here and watch these Taung take us one-by-one to Force-knows-where?"

Lee turned back to Werd's bound form and said, "_Hey. Where are they taking him?"_

The Taung warriors outside were dragging their struggling prisoner away into the darkness, toward the sound of the drumbeat. They stopped some distance away, and a wash of flame suddenly lit the night. Torches burst to life around a circular clearing in the middle of what looked like a primitive village, built into the shelter of a rocky mountain crevasse. Taung swarmed through the shadows; at least a hundred of them, all screeching and howling with fury and bloodlust.

And in the center of the clearing was a large pedestal, stained near-black with blood.

Lee spun back to Werd. "_Answer! What are they doing?"_

Werd didn't look up, but when he spoke, his voice was low and mournful. "_They are preparing to feed_."

Vhetin gripped the bars again, but this time didn't try to break them. Lee was right at his shoulder, as were the other prisoners. All were staring out at the clearing with identical expressions of horror and disbelief.

"Oh no," Lee muttered.

~~~~~~~~

**Outpost Aurek**

Tamai staggered out of the jungle, clutching at the stitch in her side. Vhonte Tervho was right behind her, matching her step for shaky step. They hadn't stopped running since the ambush, sticking to the clearings and open areas of the jungle where the canopy could not betray them. It was a hectic, panicked retreat, but they had finally made it without further attack from the _Kar'ta Epar'e._

Tamai fell to her hands and knees, all but sobbing in relief at the sight of Outpost Aurek just within reach. The telltale glow of rifle lights cut through the jungle, signifying nearby Rangers on patrol.

Tervho grabbed Tamai under the arms and hauled her back to her feet. The captain's helmet was clipped to her belt, her face covered in sweat. She managed to gasp, "Come on. We need to… get behind the walls. Get reinforcements."

Tamai summoned the last of her strength, raised her hands over her head, and shouted with all her might. "_Over here! Over here, we need help!"_

The rifle lights instantly snapped in their direction, and she heard the call of soldiers relaying orders back and forth. Seconds later, a rag-tag group of Rangers burst through the underbrush, sweeping their weapons over the area to ensure there were no surprises lying in wait for them.

"Ranger Vasser," one of the soldiers said. "It's damn good to see you again."

Tamai rested her hands on her knees, still struggling to catch her breath. When she could speak without wanting to throw up, she choked out, "Right back at you, Leus. _Kriff_ am I glad to see you guys."

Five minutes later and they were back behind the walls of Outpost Aurek. Tamai was leading the way, a dangerous set to her jaw. Her gaze was fixed resolutely ahead, barely acknowledging the MandalMotors technician that was scurrying along at her shoulder.

"I can't do that!" the technician was proclaiming. "You don't have clearance! With Ranger-Commander Che'daje off the base, the command for the Lifespark Project transfers to her second in command!"

"We don't have time for the _shabla_ bureaucracy," Tamai snapped. "I'm taking the Lifespark prototypes. You can't stop me. You don't _want_ to stop me."

The technician bit his lip, then cursed and said, "Ah, _shab_… Follow me."

Tervho frowned at the Ranger as they briskly made their way through the nighttime compound. "What's this Lifespark Project? I've never heard of it. And it wasn't on the briefing from Shysa."

"That's because Shysa himself put the whole thing into order," Tamai said. "Classified to everyone but the Rangers. My uncle didn't want news of his pet project getting out. With all that's been going on in Keldabe lately, I can't blame him."

"Keeping secrets from the people doesn't sound like Shysa's usual MO."

"You'll understand soon why he needs the secrecy."

The technician led them into one of the large repair bays scattered about the base. He flashed his identification to the stormtroopers standing guard outside and the white-armored soldiers quickly stood aside and let them pass.

"This is such a bad idea," the technician was grumbling. "I'm going to lose my job over this."

"If you don't come through," Tamai said, "a lot of good men and women are going to lose their _lives_. By comparison, your job isn't that important."

"Point taken."

They went through two more checkpoints within the repair bay before they stood at the threshold to a large arena-like enclosure sealed off with solid _beskar _walls. Such an enclosure was neither cheap nor inconspicuous, but considering what was housed within, Tamai could see the wisdom of such defenses. She had never been allowed into this section of the outpost, but she knew what was housed within was the game changer to end all game changers.

_Oh, if only Lee could see me now. He'd be so jealous his _armor_ would turn green._

The technician allowed the security monitor to scan his ID, then tapped in a long string of commands into the terminal. The front doors hissed as they unsealed and began to sheathe open. Eyes fixed resolutely forward, Tamai immediately strode inside, all too eager to get what she needed and strike out into the jungle again.

Lee and Cin had been taken by the beasts; she'd seen Lee get dragged off into the trees and Cin disappear into the undergrowth pursued by no less than five of the Heart Eater ambushers. She would sooner die herself than leave them to whatever fate those monsters had planned.

Beyond the final checkpoint was a busy workshop floor crowded with red-suited MandalMotors engineers. Sparks danced across the floor and the workers shouted to each other over the din of buzzing machinery. There were no Imperials here, and that was just the way Shysa wanted it. Tamai couldn't even begin to guess the punishment he'd receive if his project was discovered. Execution sprang to mind.

"Welcome to Project Lifespark," she said. "_Te Mand'alor_'s dirty little secret. You're walking where only Rangers have walked before, Captain. Count yourself lucky."

"I just might," Tervho said. "If I knew what was happening."

Tamai led them to the nearest workstation. She reached up and pulled back the heavy curtain blocking the station from view. As soon as she did, there was a shout of surprise from the technician within, quickly drowned out by a colossal synthesized roar that echoed through the entire building.

Tervho's eyes stretched wide at the sight before her, filled with a mix of shock and awe.

"I think you get the picture." Tamai jerked her head with a smile. "Captain, meet Lifespark One."

~~~~~~~~

Vhetin paced back and forth in the communal cage, running through every code and program his helmet systems could throw at him. This deep in the jungle, he had no connection to the local HoloNet and therefore no link to the Rangers. He only had access to short-range systems, and they were no use at all. It was infuriating, having all his tech at his fingertips and having it count for _nothing_.

"It's no use," Lee snapped. He and the others were still at the bars, watching the ceremony outside. The Taung had stripped the armor from their prisoner and were painting his body with blood-red streaks of paint. "We've had beacons going from all our helmets for the past five hours. If the others get close enough, we're going to light up their sensors like a Life Day tree. All that's left to do is wait."

The roar of a hundred Taung voices drew Vhetin's attention. He returned to the bars, gripping them until his hands shook. Outside, the Heart Eaters were hoisting their prisoner onto the bloodstained stone slab in the middle of the clearing. The Taung gathered together were screaming and beating their chests, working themselves into a bloodthirsty fervor.

The Mandos gathered at the bars were shaking their heads and muttering in dismay. Vhetin slammed his fist against the cage bars and hissed, "Damn it. There has to be _something_ we can do. I'm not going to just sit here and watch him—"

A hush suddenly fell over the crowd. All the imprisoned Mandalorians followed suit, their eyes fixed on the clearing outside. Vhetin's heart was thudding a drumbeat of its own against his chest, and he found himself unable to look away despite how much he wanted to.

The Heart Eaters parted to allow another of their kind to walk through their ranks. Unlike the others, a tattered red cape hung from this Taung's shoulders, and his thick black dreadlocks were tied back in a long braid. His ridged face was adorned with dark war paint and his eyes burned with a fiery hatred that child Vhetin's heart. He was carrying a heavy dagger in his hand.

"_That's him_," Werd intoned from behind them. "_My father._ _Mandalore_."

The caped Taung – Mandalore – strode up to the platform in the middle of the clearing, where his followers were busy binding their prisoner to the bloody stone slab. The man was screaming and struggling and fighting with all the spirit of any Mandalorian, but his captors were far stronger and his struggling accomplished nothing.

Mandalore raised his arms and turned to face his followers. Like Werd, his voice was low and warbling, but speaking the unmistakable harsh tones of fluent _Mando'a_.

"_My sons and daughters!" _he roared. "_For too long, the metal men have encroached upon our sacred lands! Burning our trees! Slaughtering our prey! They have yet to learn that these forests are ours and ours alone!"_

"Come on," Vhetin muttered. "We can't just sit here…"

"_We are the Sons of Mandalore!_" the Taung continued. "_The greatest warriors of the jungle! For two thousand years we have lived among the trees and conquered all that lies before us! We will conquer more before our time is through!"_

His words were met with a deafening, thunderous roar of approval. Mandalore nodded, a sharp-toothed grin gracing his gaunt, grey-skinned face. He raised his hands again, calling for silence. As soon as they had quieted down, he continued. "_Our loyal bretheren will soon learn the secrets of the holy serpents, restoring them to life once more. And when they do, we will lay siege to the metal men and reclaim all they have taken from us!_"

He thrust his dagger into the air, the flickering torchlight reflecting off the rough-hewn _beskar_ blade. "_We are their hunters! And they shall all fall before us!"_

He looked down at the Mandalorian bound before him, eyes all but spitting fire.

"_Starting with you_."

The blade flashed and before Vhetin could so much as move, it was buried hilt-deep in the captive man's chest. The man arched his back against his restraints and screamed as Mandalore dragged the blade in a rough circle, then thrust his hand into the dying man's chest.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Lee said. But he didn't look away. None of them could.

Mandalore hacked away with the dagger, then ripped a fist-sized hunk of flesh free, hoisting it up into the air. Clutched in his palm was the man's heart, blood pouring in rivulets from the organ. Mandalore showed the heart to all his followers, then raised it to his lips and sank his teeth deep.

As soon as he did, another triumphant bellow thundered up from the throats of his followers. Mandalore ripped away a chunk of the heart, then threw it to the nearest of his followers. They pounced on it, punching and flailing at each other in their haste to get a piece.

"_They are taking his power_," Werd sighed from behind them.

Vhetin spun to the Taung. "What?"

"_The heart is the source of a being's power. His strength and courage and intelligence. By consuming the heart, a warrior consumes his enemy's power_."

Lee's face drained of color. "That's what they've been doing all these months. All this time our warriors have been disappearing, these bastards have been… they've been _eating _them."

Vhetin returned to the bars, gripping them tight in shaking hands. "They're preparing for war."

Mandalore turned away and spread his arms. "_Now we feast! Gorge yourselves until the blood of the metal men runs in rivers!"_

The Taung roared in return and swarmed forward to the stone monolith. They fell on the dead man, tearing into him with teeth and claws. Lee looked away, his face an unappealing shade of green. Vhetin didn't look away; he couldn't. He kept his gaze fixed on the bloodbath in front of him, committing every sight, every sound, every minute sensation to memory.

It was happening all over again, just like during the Caranthyr bombings. People were dying around him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. If he wanted any chance of stopping the body count sooner, he would need this sight. He would need to use it as fuel, keeping him focused on just what he was fighting for.

Mandalore pointed a finger at their cage and thundered, "_Bring the others! Tonight we feast on the flesh of the metal men!_"

Vhetin narrowed his eyes as he watched Mandalore throw his bloodied hands up in the air once more. He shook his head and thought, _I hope Lee's right. The Rangers need to find us soon. We won't last in here much longer_.

~~~~~~~~

**The Dark Forest (unknown location)**

Jay knew with every step they took that they were growing more and more lost. An uneasy, uncomfortable silence had fallen over the expedition group since deciding to make their way back to Outpost Aurek. No one said a word, all senses tuned outwards to the jungle.

There had been no sign of any Heart Eaters since the ambush. Night had fallen and the jungle had come alive with the hoots and howls of all the local wildlife. Jay was beginning to wonder whether they would ever find Aurek again. Hish'ka Che'daje was an expert tracker, but the dark and the stress of being hunted was clearly eating away at her abilities. She led the group past the same rocky outcropping three times before she finally found her way again.

After almost two hours of nonstop hiking, they stopped by a sluggish creek. The remaining Mandalorians didn't wander far, nor did they let their guard down. They arranged themselves in a rough semi-circle, weapons pointed out while they waited to catch their breath.

Hish'ka was the only one who strayed from the group, kneeling at the edge of the creek and pressing her mechanical hand into the mud. The Ranger Commander glanced at her over one shoulder. "What is it?"

"Tracks," the turbaned woman said. "Big. Clawed."

"_Kar'ta Epar'e_?"

Che'daje shook her head. "Uh-uh. They're tree-dwellers. Don't leave tracks unless they have to. This is different."

She stood, shaking mud off her razor-tipped fingers. "Kalo wolves. A boatload of them."

The Ranger-Commander sighed. "_Osik_. The Kalo Wolves only hunt to the south of Aurek. We're off course."

"Lost, you mean," Norac Benz hissed.

"No, I mean—"

"Admit it," the clanmaster said, taking a step toward her. "You don't have the faintest idea where we are or where we're going. Puts quite a few holes in your _go back for reinforcements_ plan."

Jay held out a hand. "Norac, this isn't the time to—"

Benz rounded on her. "I'm done being a tagalong to this mission, outsider. Our men are _dying_ in this jungle, and this furface is the only one standing between us and retribution."

Hish'ka stood and clenched her hands into fists. "Don't call my sister that."

"I'll call her what I please," Benz snarled. "Incompetent leader. Mindless drone. _Coward_."

The Ranger-Commander lashed out before Jay could stop her, planting her fist squarely in the Berserker's face. He staggered back with a curse and covered his face. She pulled back for another punch when one of the Berserkers stepped forward and snatched her hand from the air, holding it in a tight grip and immobilizing her.

Benz regained his balance and wiped blood from his nose. The look in his cold eyes was unreadable; something Jay found far more terrifying than his usual fiery rage.

"That's the second time an _aruetii _has lifted a hand against me," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I'm getting tired of being nothing but a punching back for foreigners."

He glanced over his shoulder, looking at the Berserkers that were now gathered around him. A smile quirked his lips upward. "Berserkers! Who's ready for a little jungle warfare?"

His followers collectively raised their weapons and let out a shout of approval. Jay looked between them with wide eyes, trying her best to defuse the situation. "Norac, we discussed this. We're going back for reinforcements to—"

"I heard the first time. Didn't agree then and I don't agree now."

"But you said—"

"I know what I said," Benz said. "You need to learn there's a world of difference between what someone says and what they plan to do. Your plan for reinforcements had merit, it's true. But we men of the mountains have never been ones for idleness."

Akh'shi reached for her sword, but Benz's own blade was out of its sheath and in his hands before she could draw it. The sword tapped against the woman's chest plate ominously.

Benz stared at her with a smug smirk. "_That_ would be most unwise. Drop it."

Akh'shi glanced at her sister, then reluctantly dropped her sword to the dirt. One of the Berserkers snatched it away, sheathing it over his own back. Benz shook his head at the woman, then gestured with his other hand. "Tie them up. Leave them for the _Kar'ta Epar'e_. If they're lucky, the wolves will get them first."

Jay stepped closer to the man, a hand reaching for his shoulder. "Norac, you don't want to—"

The hard weight of a sword hilt hit the back of her head and she staggered forward into the dirt. Her head spun, body coursing with a sudden burst of adrenaline. The Berserker who hit her put his boot in her ribs and shoved her to the ground. Before she could rise to her feet again, she felt the cold blade of Benz's sword press under her chin.

"You know, I'm doing you all a favor, really," he said. "I know my seven boys can't kill all the Heart Eaters. But we can keep them distracted long enough to get our captives free. If you had any sense, you'd want to come along with us."

He stepped away from her. "I'll give your black-armored friend your regards when I see him."

Jay held a hand to the back of her head, wincing at the sudden wash of pain it sent through her skull. She knew not to struggle when the two nearest Berserkers pulled her to her feet and shoved her off to stand with the Che'daje sisters. Once they were close enough, one of Norac's men aimed his wrist-mounted gauntlet at them and fired a guided whipcord dart that circled around them and bound them tight against the thick trunk of a tree.

"How do you even know where to find their camp?"

Benz chuckled, gesturing to the air around them. "You don't smell it? There's smoke on the air, _aruetii_. From campfires. We're still miles from Aurek, so the only local civilization is our elusive Heart Eaters."

He pointed an accusatory finger at Hish'ka Che'daje. "If our furfaced tracker here had any real interest in saving her _vode_, she would have been following that scent. Instead, she chose to wander in circles while our men died in enemy hands.

"Think on that while you're enjoying your sit-down." He circled two fingers in the air, signaling for his men to follow close behind him. "Everyone move out! We'll have to move like _Jai'galaar'e _to get to the camp before those tree-huggers kill all their captives."

He glanced back at Jay as his men took off into the jungle. He reached over his shoulder and strapped his shield over his arm, a cold look of contempt in his eyes.

"It may not seem like it," he said, "but I'm doing what's right. Hopefully you'll realize that before this is through."

"Benz! You're a dead man!" Hish'ka Che'daje shouted. "When I get out of these kriffing ties, I'll—"

But the clanmaster and his men had already disappeared into the jungle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I originally wanted to have Werd and his people speak in nothing but Mando'a, but I ultimately decided it would be too confusing and too time-consuming to have readers (and myself) have to go through and translate everything they were saying. So I hope you enjoy my cop-out translated dialogue. :)


	15. The Great Escape

Two more Mandos had been led to the altar, and the drumbeats and screaming were only growing louder. Those who remained had grown wise to the routine of slaughter and now drew back to the rear of the cage whenever the guards returned. Those who tried to fight back usually found themselves being dragged out next.

Vhetin was still frantically trying to call out for help over his HUD systems, but they were just as unresponsive as ever. He tried to ignore the sounds of screaming Mandalorians and roaring Taung from outside. Every fiber in his body told him that he should get up and fight, and that letting his _vode_ be led out to die violated every tenet he had been raised to follow.

But fighting was suicide, and it would only save the others temporarily. The Rangers imprisoned with him had seen that as well. Many were trading quiet farewells with each other, or sitting in silence as they prayed to whatever higher power they favored.

Lee was to his right, carving his name into the cave wall with a sharpened stone. He'd mentioned something about wanting to leave some kind of mark. Vhetin was glad he'd found what little legacy he could leave behind. But now the man slumped back against the wall and tossed the rock aside. Over his shoulder he had scrawled the words HYPERION LEE WAS HERE.

Vhetin nodded to the graffiti. "Classy. A fitting epitaph."

Lee snorted. "Time will tell. Are you always this cheery?"

"Only when I'm about to be pointlessly murdered."

Lee shook his head. "Five years with the Rangers. I've been with them for five years and survived every raider ambush, hunting patrol, and jungle slog the organization could throw at me. I've survived echo snakes, kalo wolves… hell, I was even nipped at by a _Jai'galaar_ and made it out alive."

A sad look came into his eyes. "Doesn't feel right for it to end like this."

"It won't," Vhetin said, voice tense. "It can't. I won't let it."

"Well if you get us out of here in one piece, remind me to bat my eyelashes at you and sigh, _My hero_."

They sat in silence for a time as the Taung outside finished their feast, preparing to take another victim. Vhetin tried running his comm message through an orbiting satellite relay, but quickly found that without _Void_ in range his helmet systems weren't powerful enough to reach that far. They were still cut off.

"So…" Lee said. His voice was slow and hesitant. "In the event that I make it out, but you don't…"

"Big assumption there," Vhetin said, a scowl on his face. "I don't die easy."

"You know what I mean. If one of us makes it out, but the other doesn't… do you have anything you want to say?"

Vhetin clenched his teeth. "Not yet. You first."

"Fair enough. If I don't make it… I want you to find my mom. Yurinthe Lee. She lives in Norg Bral, in the north."

"Bralor territory," Vhetin said. "I know some people."

"Good. Tell her that I'm sorry I never got along well with Uryci – she's my sister – and that I never liked her fried nuna legs. Tell her that… that I died like a warrior should, and that I'll be watching over them. And tell her that I still haven't forgiven her for saddling me with a stupid name like _Hyperion_. And tell Haven down at Aurek that he still owes me twenty credits, whether I'm dead or not."

He hesitated. "And tell Tamai… tell Tamai she was the best _vod_ a guy could ask for."

Vhetin nodded, having recorded the entire confession on his helmet's audio receptors. "Got it. They'll be told. You have my word."

"Good. Now your turn."

He hesitated, his chest constricting uncomfortably. He didn't want to think about this, but he knew Lee was right; they needed to start making preparations for the worst.

"I guess… tell Rame and Mia Omotao that I'm thankful for everything they've given me. That I couldn't ask for better friends, or… or better _buir'e_. And tell Brianna Bellan that… that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything, but I'm grateful for the time we spent together."

He took a deep, shaky breath. "Tell Janada Bralor that I'll still keep my promise to show up for her weekly poker games whether I'm dead or not. And tell Jay that… that I'm _so_ proud of her. That she's been the best friend I've ever had, and a better partner than a cold old _shabuir_ like me could ever deserve. Tell her that she's more than ready to make it on her own, and…"

He trailed off, not trusting himself to say more. But Lee nodded, understanding anyway. He frowned for a moment before he murmured, "And… anything for Tamai?"

"Yeah," Vhetin said, voice raw. "But… what I have to say to her isn't for your ears."

"Ah. Loud and clear, _vod_."

The sound of angry shouting from outside signaled that it was time for another victim to be hauled away. Vhetin turned in time to see the two guards return, pointing at the cage and brandishing their spears. The nearest Mandos shrank away from the doors as the guards stalked into the enclosure and raked their glowing golden eyes over their remaining captives.

Vhetin racked his mind for some plan, recalling every tidbit of information he could remember from his briefings about the Heart Eaters. Tamai had managed to escape them – twice, since she wasn't in this cage with them.

"_These things are savage_," she had said, "_but I still have a few tricks of my own. They're tough, but they're not invincible."_

Vhetin had some tricks as well. Just because he was stuck behind bars didn't mean he was helpless. He still had his armor and his lightsaber. He just needed to lure the Heart Eaters away from the prison to keep them from attacking the other prisoners. Keep their attention focused solely on him.

"I know what I have to do," Vhetin said. He reached up and pulled off his gloves, setting them on the ground next to him.

"What? What are you doing?"

"Something stupid. Remember my messages to the others."

Lee narrowed his eyes. "I get the feeling I'm not going to like what happens next."

"Believe it or not," Vhetin said, rising to his feet, "it's going to hurt me worse than anyone else."

Then he strode straight for the Taung guards and punched the nearest one in its angular face. The creature recoiled with a grunt while the second stepped forward and leveled its spear at him. Vhetin advanced regardless, at least until the first guard recovered and grabbed him in a powerful immobilizing chokehold. He didn't try to resist even as they pulled him from the prison and hauled him out of the prison.

"What are you doing?" Lee shouted after him, gripping the bars of the cage. "You _want _to die?!"

Vhetin narrowed his eyes behind his helmet and thought, _Not quite_.

He reached up and grasped the Taung guard's arm with his bare hand. He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating hard. Then his eyes flashed open again and pulsed with blue-white light as a roaring pain ripped through his skull. He distantly heard his guard roar in pain, echoing like it was reaching him from the other side of a long tunnel. Then his vision went black and the world around him vanished.

The next moment, visions began to race through his head. They burst through his mind, flashing by too fast to fully understand. He saw leaves rushing by his face as he threw himself through the treetops, spear in hand. Then he was leaping from the trees, pinning a screaming Mandalorian to the forest floor and ripping his helmet away. The vision blurred, then suddenly he was training with other Taung – his brothers and sisters – while the red-caped warrior known as Mandalore prowled up and down the training line.

"_We have lived in isolation in these jungles for millennia," _Mandalore said. "_But soon the time will come when we travel out from these trees and claim what lies beyond. The strongest among you will tame the holy serpents and ride on to glory! For Mandalore!"_

Vhetin's lips twisted to echo his _vode_. "_For Mandalore!"_

The vision dissolved and suddenly he was standing on the edge of a cliff overlooking the seemingly endless _Werda Kurs_, watching the _Jai'galaar'e _swoop along the canopy in the distance. They were circling over a specific area and had been for the past half-hour. Now the sun was setting on the horizon of the jungle; the perfect time for an ambush.

"_A fresh kill_," said the Taung at his shoulder. "_The scouts report that the metal men have slain one of the river serpents. They suffered casualties, but remain true to their purpose."_

Vhetin flexed his grip around the shaft of his spear, feeling the humid jungle breeze tug at the dreadlocks framing his mask. "_Mandalore has given us our orders. We are to cut them off at the start of the canyon. The ambush will separate and demoralize them."_

"_We still do not know their true numbers,_" the other Taung said. "_There may be more than we realize."_

_"That sounds suspiciously like cowardice."_

_"It is pragmatism._ _We are the descendants of the old Mandalores, true warriors to the core. But perhaps coexistence is the only lasting solution to this fight."_

"_You will obey the will of your father, Werd'cetara_," Vhetin said with lips that weren't his own. "_He has made his intentions clear._ _We will consume the strength of the metal men and with that power we will finally restore the holy serpents to life."_

Werd shook his head, the T-visor of his rough-hewn mask turned to the forest floor. "_I am yet conflicted."_

_"Then be conflicted," _Vhetin hissed. "_So long as you obey. _Oya, vod."

Then he leaped into the trees and the vision blended away into blackness.

He was shoved away as the Taung guard fell forward onto his hands and knees, clutching his head. Vhetin collapsed as well as the world suddenly came rushing back, the light pouring from his eyes blinking out. He sucked in a breath, ignoring the pounding in his temples, then threw himself to his feet and drew the lightsaber from his belt. The blue-white energy blade burst from the hilt with a _snap-hiss_ that drew all eyes to him just as he'd planned.

The second guard had leaped forward to attack when his companion had fell. Vhetin slashed sideways with all his considerable speed and strength. The energy blade hissed as it carved through the Taung's neck, severing its head from its shoulders. The body collapsed forward into the dirt, to the outraged roar of the crowd that surrounded him.

Another Taung charged him, spear held high. Vhetin brought his saber up and carved the wooden spear in two before plunging the blade into the creature's chest. It stiffened, then fell with a smoking, cauterized hole in its chest. Barely a moment passed before another fell to his blade with a smoking burn stretching across his chest and abdomen.

Vhetin pivoted, slashing at yet another figure that was charging at him. His blade descended toward the attacking Taung. But before the blow could land, he heard another distinctive _snap-hiss_ and a second blue-white bar of plasma erupted from the air. His attack was brought to a jarring halt as the second lightsaber clashed against his blade. He saw a flash of a tattered red cape before he was shoved away.

He regained his balance and spun back to see Mandalore standing before him with a familiar-looking lightsaber pike clutched in his taloned hands. The grizzled, battle-scarred Taung raised the blue-white blade to his eyes, staring at it with something akin to awe.

"_It has been many years_," Mandalore growled, "_since my people have seen a weapon such as this. The legends of the _Jettiise _do not do it justice."_

He stared at Vhetin and aimed the blade at his chest. "_What manner of metal man carries the weapon of our ancient enemy?"_

Vhetin grasped his traditional lightsaber in both hands, breathing hard. "_The kind of metal man that won't let you kill more of his brothers."_

They began circling each other slowly. Mandalore spun the weapon between his hands with the speed and grace of a seasoned swordsman, testing the weight of his newfound weapon. His golden eyes flashed. "_Your heart will give me great power, outsider. It will be a day long remembered by my clan."_

"_You'll have to fight for it."_

_"I would have it no other way."_

Mandalore strode forward and brought his blade down, sending a shower of sparks raining to the jungle floor. Vhetin shoved the blade to the side and pivoted, throwing his full weight behind a horizontal slash that ricocheted off his opponent's blade. Mandalore spun the pike and caught Vhetin in the arm with the blunt end. Vhetin's gauntlet caught the majority of the blow with a metallic _clang_.

He shrugged off the attack and darted forward, lashing out with a punch that caught the Taung in the jaw and sent him staggering away. Mandalore fell back, one hand clapped over his pointed chin.

A shocked gasp rang through the onlookers. But Mandalore only straightened with a dark chuckle, wiping blue-black blood from the corner of his mouth. He turned back to Vhetin and raised the pike again.

_"It has been a long time,_" Mandalore said, "_since a warrior has landed a blow against me."_

_"I'll do more than that, you monster."_

Vhetin charged again, lashing out with attacks that would have carved a normal opponent into pieces. He threw all his animosity, all his rage and fear, into the deadly dance of sabers. Sparks flew through the darkness, the sharp electric clash of lightsaber blades echoing through the dark forest.

Thunder clapped overhead and the dark clouds above finally began to let down a thick, warm rain. The ground beneath their feet began to slowly churn into thick brown mud, making their footing treacherous. Vhetin switched on his helmet's environmental controls, his helmet sending a quick pulse of electricity along the surface of his visor to burn away the clinging raindrops.

Vhetin and Mandalore were evenly matched; both possessed physical attributes superior to humans. Vhetin's Kiffar physiology gave him enhanced speed and reflexes, while Mandalore held superior strength and his thick Taung hide seemed naturally resistant to the blade of a lightsaber.

But Vhetin was at a disadvantage. He had rarely found himself fighting against his own weaponry, and the lightsaber pike gave Mandalore both power and reach. The elder Taung slammed Vhetin's lightsaber aside before thrusting forward with the pike with a blow meant to kill. Vhetin hopped back, the blade only grazing his chest plate, and began to circle his opponent again while he caught his breath.

_Kriff it all_, he thought. _I never thought I'd see the day I'd prefer to fight a Sith_.

~~~~~~~~

As the duel outside continued, Lee spun back to the stone monolith in the center of the prison. He knelt in front of the bound Taung once more and said, "Hey. Eyes up, ugly."

Werd'cetara's eyes indeed snapped up. The Taung regarded him coldly, but made no move to attack.

Lee nodded to his restraints and switched to speaking in _Mando'a_. "_If I get you out of those, will you promise not to eat us?"_

Werd let out a short, rough sigh. "_I have lost my taste for human flesh. There is no honor in consuming helpless prisoners. Better to consume those slain in battle, their blood fresh upon the ground."_

"_Right…_" Lee murmured. "_That's not much better_."

He gestured to the restraints again. "_If I let you out, will you help us escape?"_

_"There is no escape from my people," _Werd rumbled. "_Even if you and your siblings managed to flee the camp, my clan would hunt you wherever you went."_

Lee gritted his teeth before ejecting his gauntlet blade. "We'll just have to see about that, ugly."

With a single motion, he reached out and sliced through the thorny vines that bound Werd to the pillar. At once, the young Taung collapsed forward, falling onto all fours. The other prisoners shrank away from him, shooting Lee glares or demanding what the kriff he thought he was doing. But Lee just stared at Werd and sheathed his blade.

"_Too many of my people have been killed by yours,"_ he said. "_If you really want to stop this… will you help us?"_

Werd held a hand to his chest in an attempt to staunch his bleeding wounds. But he looked up to Lee with a quizzical tilt to his head. "_You metal men are… far from what I expected._"

"_We get that a lot."_

Werd suddenly burst into action, rising to his feet and grabbing Lee by the throat. The tall alien hoisted the man into the air and pinned him to the cold stone wall, then cocked his head to one side curiously. Behind him, the other prisoners shrank away; some frantically searched for weapons while others simply pressed themselves against the opposite wall and hoped the freed Taung warrior would not turn its rage against them.

"_Why assist me now?"_ Werd growled as Lee choked and sputtered. "_I could kill you as easily as I could save you. My brothers hold no esteem for your people. Why do you believe I will?"_

"_B-because_," Lee gasped, wrestling with the large, taloned hand wrapped around his throat. "_Whether you like it or not… we're brothers. We're all Mandos. And if even one of you can see that… maybe the rest can too."_

Lee met Werd's blazing gold gaze and choked out, "_Vode an_."

Werd's lips twitched and he snorted, obviously thinking hard. He glanced outside, to the flashing lights of the duel still being fought in the clearing. He growled, deep in the back of his throat, then said, "_My father is a great warrior who has carried my people through many seasons in this dark and dangerous land. He is worthy of his title, and worthy of the devotion my people show him."_

He turned back to Lee and narrowed his eyes. "_But in this matter, he is wrong."_

He let his prisoner go and Lee collapsed to the ground, rubbing his throat and coughing. Werd took a single step back, the beads in his long dreadlocks clicking as he reached down and held out a large, clawed hand.

"_Until we either escape or die," _the Heart-Eater rumbled,_ "you may consider me an ally. For all that it is worth."_

Lee stared at the alien's hand. Part of him screamed that this was the worst in a long list of bad ideas. But they had no choice; even if Vhetin miraculously won the duel outside, he would not survive the onslaught of _Kar'ta-Epar'e _that surrounded him. Neither would the rest of the prisoners. The duel was a stalling action, meant to distract their captors until someone rose up to save them.

Maybe, just maybe, Werd was that someone.

So he glanced up at the Taung standing over him, then reached out and shook his hand.

~~~~~~~~

Jay didn't know how much time had passed since Norac Benz and his men had left them. She did know that the rain had started to fall in earnest now, and Hish'ka Che'daje hadn't stopped muttering to herself since being bound.

"Gonna kriffing kill that _shabuir_ and string him from the trees by his _gettse_," she hissed, flexing her hands until the claws of her mechanical hand scratched at the dirt. "I'm gonna make him scream for the bitch that brought him screaming into this world, then I'm gonna cut his _shabla_ tongue right out of his _shabla_ mouth…"

Her sister finally hissed at her and growled, "Hish'ka! Shut up for a second!"

"No I'm not going to shut up!" the turbaned Cathar yowled back. "That man stabbed us in the back! I don't take kindly to betrayal, Akh'shi."

"I'm trying to think of a way to get us out of this—"

"There _is_ no way out of this!" Hish'ka struggled against her restraints. "You know what this stuff is? Triple-wound durasteel whipcord. You can't _cut_ through this like some cheap action vid. We're _stuck_ here like a kriffing Life-Day dinner until some wolf pack comes to investigate."

"Shut up," Jay muttered, frowning.

"Don't even get me started on you, _aruetii_. If not for—"

"No, I'm serious. Shut up. I hear something."

Hish'ka instantly fell silent, sharp Cathar ears pricked. The sounds of the jungle had grown raucous around them after the sun had set, and the thunder rumbling overhead made it even more difficult to hear. But if Jay strained her senses just enough, she thought she could hear…

Both the Cathar sisters heard it, obviously far better than her. Their eyes stretched wide, and Ranger-Commander Akh'shi breathed out a quiet, "Oh no."

Jay could hear it clearer now; the telltale crackle and scraping of something moving through the underbrush. The crunch of fallen bark or twigs as it was pushed beneath the weight of something very large and very heavy. As the sound grew louder, she heard an all-too-familiar hiss over the air, like someone had depressurized her ship's cockpit.

"Stay absolutely still," Akh'shi snarled, "and whatever you do, don't make a noise."

Jay stiffened against the tree where they were bound and didn't say a word. Not a moment too soon, too; seconds later, the bushes shook and the massive triangular head of an echo snake emerged from the foliage. It raked its nonexistent gaze over the area, tongue flicking in the air as it let out a series of deep chirps that reverberated through the jungle. A few moments later, it slithered forward again.

_Echolocation_, she thought, resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut. _Don't move. Please, for kriff's sake, don't move…_

Jay could feel her heart pounding in her chest and silently prayed that it was quiet enough to escape the serpent's notice. As the creature continued to unfold from the jungle, she saw it was even larger than the beast they had fought before. _That_ monster had killed three seasoned Mandalorian warriors before being brought down. She didn't want to guess how lethal this creature was.

It was easily the length of a starship, a roiling mass of shimmering scaly coils and tightly-bound muscle. Tiny studs of bone protruded along its spine and the large white scar stretching across its snout suggested it was very old and very tough.

The echo snake flicked its tongue through the air again, tail twitching as its massive curls tucked in against its own body. Then it lowered its head back to the ground and began to slither away into the jungle to their right.

_That's right,_ she thought, terrified eyes unable to leave the grayish-white creature._ Just keep going, you bastard. Nothing interesting here…_

The massive scraping of the snake's body slithering through the underbrush drowned out all other noises around them, and Jay had eyes only for the massive coils that were passing by less than a meter away. But then its tail finally slipped beneath a fern and the creature was lost from sight. A few moments later, the loud slithering and shaking leaves that marked its passage also faded into the normal chorus of the nighttime jungle.

After waiting a few more moments in tense silence, Jay finally let out a sigh and relaxed back against the tree.

"I just want to point out," she breathed, "this jungle of yours sucks."

"You'll get no argument from me," Hish'ka growled. "So back to the matter at hand: how are we getting out of here?"

"I'm open to suggestions, sister."

Jay fidgeted, trying to wriggle just enough that her bonds loosened the slightest bit. Unsurprisingly, they didn't budge. Hish'ka noticed her motions and narrowed her yellows eyes. "What's gotten into you? Are you sitting on a flame-stinger nest?"

Jay chewed her lip as she worked furiously to wiggle her arm further down her side. "Before we split up, Cin… he gave me one of his lightsabers. If I can reach it…"

"And you're waiting until _now_ to try that?"

Jay rolled her eyes as she tried to reach her belt. Her fingertips just barely brushed the emitter of the weapon in question. "It's kind of hard to come up with a plan when you're off cursing in one corner and a kriffing echo snake is prowling around in the other. Just give me a minute."

She worked in silence for a few minutes, her arm growing sore from the straining. She shifted her shoulders, trying to reach as far as she could manage while her arms were bound at her sides. If she stretched as far as she could, she might just be able to—

"Might want to hurry up there, _aruetii_," Hish'ka suddenly hissed.

Jay clenched her teeth. "I'm trying as hard as I can. Just quiet down and—"

"No, like hurry up. _Now_."

Jay let out a huff and said, "What do you want me to do? My arms aren't made of kriffing—"

But Hish'ka wasn't looking at her. The Cathar's gaze was fixed at a point over her shoulder, eyes wide and afraid. Jay quickly looked in the direction the huntress was staring and her heart dropped into her stomach.

The echo snake was back, coiled up on itself and looking right at her. Its tongue flicked the air slowly, lazily, no doubt tasting their scent; there was no question it knew they were there now. It opened its tooth-studded maw and let out a high-pitched series of clicks, mapping their location with sound.

"Jay," Akh'shi murmured. "You need to hurry."

"Yeah," Jay said, fidgeting and stretching as far as her arm could allow. The very tips of her fingers brushed across the contoured hilt of the weapon. A little further and she'd be able to grasp the hilt. "Working as fast as I can."

Behind her, the echo snake began uncoiling and slithering toward them. Hish'ka hissed at the creature, a primal feline snarl of defiance. Her sister echoed the motion, clenching her razor-fingered mechanical hand into a tight fist. But the Cathar sisters' defiance did nothing to slow the giant snake's approach.

"Jay…"

"I'm trying!"

The echo snake began to pick up speed, knocking aside bushes and sapling trees as it slithered toward them. Its mouth stretched open, wide enough to swallow a human whole. Jay strained until she felt like her shoulder was about to pop from its socket. Her fingers finally wrapped around the hilt of the saber and—

A bright spotlight lit up the jungle around them. The echo snake and its would-be prey recoiled in surprise at the wash of blinding white light. A moment later, a world-shaking roar echoed through the trees and something huge burst through the foliage to tackle the serpent away and out of sight. The serpent screeched as it was dragged into the underbrush by a writhing mass of arms, legs, and dark armor plating. Then there were three quick blaster shots that painted the leaves with red light and the beast fell silent.

A heavy footstep shook leaves from the trees overhead and the spotlight returned. Jay grimaced against the flood of illumination and saw three large, snarling figures standing in front of them. They were massive, hunch-backed forms covered in angular armor plating and bristling with spines and sharp edges. Human-shaped shadows were resting on their backs, but one quickly dismounted and strode into the light.

Jay instantly let out a relieved breath and fell back against the tree behind her. "Holy kriff am I glad to see you."

"Captain Tervho," the Ranger-Commander said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I thought we'd seen the last of you."

"You can thank Miss Vasser for proving you wrong," Vhonte Tervho replied. She gestured over her shoulder, where Tamai was also dismounting from the giant figure with the spotlight.

The other woman jogged forward and knelt in front of Jay, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You three okay?"

Jay nodded. "Just barely. Thanks for the quick save. You have a great sense of timing."

"So I've been told. Is Cin with you?"

Jay shook her head. "No. We haven't seen him since…"

Tamai's gaze hardened, but she didn't say any more. She just gestured to the whipcord and said, "You have anything to cut this?"

"One of Cin's lightsabers. It's on my belt, but I can't reach it."

Tamai reached down and successfully unhooked the lightsaber from Jay's belt. She ignited the pale blue blade and severed the whipcord with a single well-placed slash. The whipcord fell away and Jay finally managed to stretch her arms free. She staggered away from the tree, rubbing her sore wrist. Tamai deactivated the saber and tossed it back.

"Let me guess." Tervho gestured to the whipcord. "Norac's handiwork?"

Hish'ka nodded and adjusted her turban. Once done, she clenched her mechanical fist so hard it shook. "I'm going to kill that bastard. I don't care what you or my sister say. I'm going to carve his face open with my bare hand."

Tervho sighed. "I should have known he would try something like this. Leave him to me."

"No, I'm going to—"

Tervho's voice left no room for discussion. "Leave him to me."

Jay straightened, finally having caught her breath, and said, "How did you even find us?"

"Lifespark One managed to pick up a distress beacon in this area. It matched the Ranger-Commander's signal."

Jay glanced at the Cathar, who shrugged and gestured to a small flashing orb hooked to her belt. "It's been running ever since the ambush. It was a long shot, but I had to try."

Hish'ka, meanwhile, folded her arms and glared at Tamai. "Who gave you authorization to send the Lifespark units into the field?"

"I authorized myself," Tamai replied, a defiant tilt to her chin. "We didn't have time to go through all the bureaucratic bullshit necessary. So I took them."

Jay glanced between the two. "Just what is this Lifespark you keep talking about?"

Tervho gestured to the three hulking figures behind her and called, "Cut the lights!"

The spotlights blinked out and Jay's eyes widened at the sight before her.

Three hulking Basilisk droids stood at the ready, their photoreceptors glowing crimson red in the darkness and their chassis shifting in an eerie mimicry of breath. They were standing on four compound legs that ended in wickedly-curved mechanical claws. Large, curved wings stretched out over the droid's shoulders and flexed as the machines moved. A long, segmented tail stretched out behind their bodies, ending in a sharp fin that Jay guessed was used as an aerodynamic rudder.

But unlike the deactivated droid she had seen in the jungle earlier, these units were in near-pristine condition: they were covered in polished black armor marked with all manner of warning signs and MandalMotors prototype designations, and the tangled mess of cannons that made up their "heads" tracked back and forth across the jungle searching for potential threats. As Jay watched, one of the droids tossed its bulky head and let out another deafening, synthesized roar that echoed through the jungle.

She recognized that roar; seemingly so long ago, during her first tour of Outpost Aurek. Something had tossed a MandalMotors engineer clear across a warehouse before Tervho had grabbed her arm and not-so-subtly told her to mind her own business.

"That…" Jay shook her head. "I thought Lee said it was impossible to reactivate them!"

"Officially," the Ranger-Commander said, "it is impossible. But unofficially…"

"Unofficially, we've been carting Basilisk carcasses out of the jungle for months now," Tamai said brusquely. "The red-suits that MandalMotors sent us have been beside themselves with glee trying to get them back into working order."

"Doesn't this violate…" Jay hesitated, grasping for words. "I don't know, _hundreds_ of Imperial laws? Mandalorians aren't allowed to have Basilisks anymore!"

"That's why their existence is going to stay our secret," Captain Tervho said. "We don't have the firepower to take on an entire clan of _Kar'ta Epar'e_. But with the Lifespark units backing us up, we might just have a chance to get our friends back safe."

Tamai looked to Jay and raised a questioning eyebrow. "So what do you say? Are you up for a rescue mission?"

"With those things on our side?" Jay scoffed. "I'd be ready to take on a rancor!"


	16. Vhetin vs Mandalore

Lee followed close behind Werd as the Taung strode toward the bars of their prison. Vhetin was still holding Mandalore at bay outside, though it was obvious that both combatants were beginning to tire.

"_So what's your plan_?" Lee said. Several other captives were milling about nearby, listening intently. "_I hope you're not planning to try and break out of here by yourself."_

Werd's expression didn't change. "_I am not the only Taung with a desire for peace. When told that I am allied with you, others will surely follow my command_. _If we can defeat my father, the rest of the clan may follow his lead and surrender. In the confusion, your friends may escape._"

"_So we're staging both a rescue and a power coup_?"

"_It would appear so_."

Werd strode up to the bars and stretched his arms through, as if he were casually leaning against the barrier to watch the fight outside.

"_Your friend carries himself with true poise,"_ he noted, nodding to Vhetin. "_If he is lucky, my father may grant him a quick death."_

Lee scowled. "_Let's try and stop things before they reach that point, yeah? Do you have a plan to break out of here or not?"_

Werd let out a rumbling sigh. "_When imprisoned, I believed my drive for peace foiled. But if there are those among my people who still favor wisdom over violence…"_

He trailed off into silence, watching the duel in the rain outside with an expressionless gaze on his craggy, gaunt face. After a few moments, however, he made a quick series of hand gestures.

At the signal, a few Taung split off from the rest of the group and indiscreetly made their way toward the barrier. Lee had to squint to see them in the darkness, but it was unmistakable. Thankfully, it looked like the majority of their fellows were too focused on the clash of lightsabers to pay them any mind.

Lee glanced between the two guards outside the bars, standing a few feet away. Any escape attempt would fail as long as these warriors, bristling with weapons both salvaged and stolen, were dutifully watching their prisoners. Lee was lucky he'd managed to free Werd without repercussions; the guards had simply laughed and muttered something between themselves about camaraderie among cowards. One had spit on Werd and continued his patrol without another word.

He was about to voice such concerns to his long-haired friend when Werd suddenly let out a sharp whistle. The guards turned to him, ready for trouble. Doing so, they missed the dark figures that dropped from the trees above them and advanced with weapons at the ready.

The newcomers moved with deadly precision. As soon as they were close enough, they wrapped their wiry arms around the guards and sank sharp, bone-hilted daggers into their chests. Dark blood splattered the ground and the guards dropped without a sound. They were quickly dragged into the safety of jungle foliage, out of sight.

More figures stepped into the light. They were more Taung, obviously not allied with their more bloodthirsty companions. Lee could see three lanky males and a female, all wearing angular, T-visored helmets. The others re-emerged from the foliage, bolstering their group to a total of six.

One of the Taung put a hand against his chest in salute. When he spoke, his _Mando'a_ was rough and grating, but still comprehensible.

_"Werd'cetara. We feared you had been slain."_

"_My friends." _Werd returned the salute. "_I assure you, I am still very much alive. Are things prepared?"_

"_All is ready," _the Taung woman said. "_The others are still uncertain of this course of action, but their loyalty is unwavering. They would follow you into the jaws of hell itself._"

"_You planned this?" _Lee said incredulously.

Werd glanced at him. "_My father's disapproval of my views is common knowledge. My outburst during the ambush merely gave him the excuse he needed to lock me away. But I will not so easily submit to imprisonment for speaking words of wisdom."_

"_So… what does that mean?"_

"_Mandalore's devotion to the ideals of a bygone age will ultimately lead to the downfall of our people. The clan will understand that, given time and a strong new ruler to guide them_."

"_Right. And I'm guessing that ruler is you?" _Lee wasn't sure how helping the man-eating warlord's son to seize power would solve any problems. What if Werd was only using him for personal gain? What if he took power from his father and hauled the rest of the Rangers out to the sacrificial pedestal anyway?

But Werd nodded. "_I will guide my clan to peace whether they want it or not. Once my father has been removed from power, I will give you and your fellows free passage from this land. You have my word_."

Lee turned to the other imprisoned Rangers. "What about you guys? Does this sound like a plan?"

One of the prisoners, a grizzled, grey-haired veteran, rubbed at his sore and bruised wrist and muttered, "I'd rather die fighting for my freedom than locked up in here. I'm in."

"Me too."

"And me."

Lee looked back to Werd and nodded. "_You officially have a rebellion."_

Werd nodded back, then turned to the rough wooden bars and grasped them tightly. "_Then let us begin_."

Lee grabbed the bars as well. The other Rangers slowly approached, flanking the two and likewise grabbing hold of the bars. The Taung outside spread out, keeping watch while the prisoners began to pull with all their considerable might against the barrier that penned them in.

"_Ironbark is sturdy,"_ Werd grunted, his muscles straining at the exertion, "_but brittle. Apply enough pressure in enough places_…"

Lee said nothing, his face screwing up as he pulled. His muscles screamed at the effort, but he forced himself to pull with all his might. This was his only chance for escape. Vhetin was depending on them, as were the Rangers. He didn't have the luxury of giving up and dying now.

"Pull!" he grunted, listening to the groans and panting of tired warriors all around him. "Pull like you were dragging a Strill from your cot back at base!"

He was about to start thinking the wood was going to hold, until he heard a series of quiet _crack_s under his fingers. He redoubled his efforts, digging his heels into the mud at his feet and pulling back as hard as he could against the bars. The solid wood began to bend and buckle.

"_Enough_." Werd held out a hand and motioned for them to step back. The Rangers stepped away, watching as the lanky Taung flexed his muscles. He took a few steps back, then charged forward and threw his shoulder into the center of the bars. They bent outward with a _crack _of splintering wood.

Werd tossed his head with a snarl and repeated the motion. He slammed his shoulder into the bars with all his might and Lee saw the bars buckle under the attack. They wouldn't take much more abuse.

_"Foolish of them_," Werd growled, drawing back one more time, "_to keep me locked in a cage built for men._"

He stepped forward and struck with a powerful kick. The ironbark bars splintered outward, shattering from the sudden attack. Werd continued his assault, throwing his shoulder forward and ripping free from the bars. The barrier exploded out in a rough, Taung-shaped hole, leaving plenty of room for Lee and his fellows to escape.

Werd instantly made for the cover of the foliage. The other _Kar'ta Epar'e_ followed in his footsteps, keeping watch for any overly attentive Taung nearby. The shattered bars of the prison were far from inconspicuous; it wouldn't be long before their escape was noticed.

Werd turned to his compatriots and made several swift hand gestures. The Taung wordlessly split up, disappearing into the undergrowth. Once they had passed, Werd turned back to Lee. "_Are you prepared?"_

He handed Lee a bundle of weapons; taken from the dead guards, no doubt. Lee grabbed a _beskar_ shortsword and passed the bundle to the nearest Ranger, motioning for them to divide the spoils among themselves.

"_Prepared to do what, exactly?"_

Werd hefted a heavy spear. "_Kill my father."_

~~~~~~~~

The rain was coming down harder than ever as Vhetin circled his opponent, blade leveled along one arm so the weapon was angled at Mandalore's chest. The battle-scarred Taung shook his head and roared, flexing his grip around the stolen lightsaber pike in his hands.

He knew he couldn't keep this fight up forever; exhaustion or the other Taung baying for his blood would eventually drag him down. But he had no other plan; his font of bad ideas had ended with punching the guard and staging a surprise attack. Barring a miracle, he was stuck dueling the clanmaster of these mysterious jungle Taung until one of them fell. As time passed, Vhetin was more and more convinced he would not be the victor.

Mandalore must have been thinking along similar lines. He narrowed his golden eyes and snarled, "_You have nowhere to go, metal man. This attack is foolhardy, but pointless. Even should you strike me down, my followers will not allow you to walk away free."_

"_I don't intend to_," Vhetin replied. "_You've spilled the blood of my brothers and sisters. I owe them your blood."_

_"Then come and claim it!"_

Vhetin threw himself forward, slamming his saber forward before pivoting on one foot and striking with a spinning slash to the midsection. Mandalore parried the blow and shoved him away. Vhetin didn't back down, spinning the opposite way and stabbing at his opponent. Mandalore hopped back before lashing out with a backhand punch that sent Vhetin staggering.

Vhetin turned the blow into a somersault that brought him away from the inevitable counterattack from Mandalore. Sure enough, the Taung's blade stabbed into the ground, burning away the dirt and vegetation in the space where Vhetin had stood only a moment before.

Mandalore ripped the blade free and advanced, using his superior height and strength to keep his opponent off-balance. Vhetin turned and slammed Mandalore's weapon away, the lightsaber blades clashing with a synthetic hiss and a shower of sparks.

Their blades whirled with lightning speed, crashing and spinning in a dizzying halo of light and sound. Vhetin's helmet visor automatically tinted to protect his vision, while Mandalore simply narrowed his eyes and pressed forward relentlessly.

"_Pathetic_!" Mandalore roared. He smashed Vhetin's saber away, then kicked him hard in the chest. Vhetin was knocked clean off his feet, sprawling into the dirt. He groaned, but quickly rose to his feet again and activated his lightsaber once more.

Mandalore leveled his saber at Vhetin's chest. "_Your determination is commendable, but misplaced. Your heart will be consumed like all the rest._"

Vhetin said nothing and simply threw himself into battle once more. He was falling into the motions, the old muscle memory of attack and defend, parry and riposte. Saber fights were like an exceedingly lethal dance, and it was one that he knew well. His strikes grew stronger and more confident, his footwork faster and more elegant. He felt all the old familiarity of combat come flooding back into his limbs, until his motions were almost second-nature. He blocked and stabbed, then pivoted and slashed, his aching limbs quieting to a dull background concern. All that mattered now was the placement of his feet and his weapon. His entire essence was focused on the battle at hand until his saber felt almost like an extension of his own body. Mandalore suddenly found himself pressed back, retreating under a blindingly fast and relentless hail of attacks.

He was out of practice, it was true. There had been a time when he had been more familiar with combat than with peaceful living. That was a long time ago now, but he felt a shadow of his former strength pouring through him. His mind raced with the familiarity of his motions, and renewed strength poured through his body.

_I can do this_, he found himself thinking. _I know I can do this._

Mandalore was a skilled swordsman, but living in the deadly depths of the jungle could only teach a warrior so much. Vhetin had devoted his entire life to combat, and a great deal of that time was spent specializing in saber fighting. He was no Jedi, but he was still damn good. Mandalore, by comparison, was little more than an overpowered thug wielding a weapon he did not understand.

_He's no Gotab Skirata_, Vhetin thought, narrowing his eyes. _Time to show him what he and his Tuang have missed over the past two thousand years._

He advanced, steadily driving Mandalore back against the bloodstained pedestal in the center of the clearing. Mandalore threw himself to one side just in time; Vhetin's blade slashed past him and carved the stone platform in half. He wrenched the blade free and landed a powerful spinning kick that connected with the side of Mandalore's angular face. The Taung staggered away, blood dripping from his downturned lips.

Vhetin didn't give him time to catch his breath, slashing at his legs. The humming blue blade of his lightsaber carved the Taung's cape in half. The red fabric fluttered away in the strong wind that buffeted them. Lighting cracked overhead as Vhetin pressed his advantage. He struck forward with a leaping kick that landed in the small of Mandalore's back. The Taung crashed to the ground, turning his momentum into a skillful somersault that brought him back to his feet.

Yet when he regained his balance, Vhetin was ready for him; his blade slashed forward and only a split-second parry from Mandalore halted the blow. Vhetin braced his feet and shoved against the saber lock, driving the two blue blades toward Mandalore's throat.

"_You see us as nothing more than animals_," Vhetin snarled, shoving with all his might against his weapon. The hilt shook violently in his hand, the glowing energy blades sparking and hissing as they slid against each other. "_But we have bigger teeth than you realize."_

Mandalore shoved back against the lock with his own considerable strength. The two grappled in the center of the clearing, driven to an impasse. "_You are not without skill, it is true. But that will only make your defeat all the more satisfying. You are a fool if you think you are the most skillful opponent I have faced in my long years. Battle is my life, youngblood, and I have seen more of it than you ever will."_

Suddenly, of all the people to think of in the heat of battle, Vhetin found the Handmaiden at the forefront of his mind.

"Battle is a dance of discovery," she had said during one particularly ruthless training session. "In combat, all extraneous distractions are stripped away, leaving the combatants with nothing more than the most basic expressions of existence. The mind focuses only on what can contribute to victory and survival. It is a very different way of seeing the world."

And at that moment, Vhetin was indeed seeing the world very differently. Adrenaline had long since overtaken him, and the world seemed to move in slow motion. He could pick out every detail of the battle unfolding in front of him: the way Mandalore's dreadlocks waved through the air as he shoved against the lock, the way sweat beaded his rough-skinned forehead. He could see the firelight from the torches flickering on the ranks of Taung surrounding them, and could now see that not all the jungle-dwelling aliens were howling for blood. He could see the trees waving in the wind of the storm, and he could see the dark, human-sized figures prowling through the outskirts of the village, illuminated by a bright flash of lightning.

He frowned, his attention shifting from the battle for the briefest of moments. Who were these newcomers? Had Lee decided to escape after all? Had the Rangers found them?

Unfortunately, Mandalore was no stranger to combat either. In the split-second Vhetin was distracted, the red-caped Taung charged forward and threw his shoulder into Vhetin's chest. The blow sent him crashing onto his back, sprawling painfully into the dirt. He tried to scramble back to his feet, but Mandalore's heavy foot landed on his chest, pinning him to the ground. A second later, his lightsaber was wrenched from his grip.

Lightning carved a path across the clouds high above. Mandalore threw his head back as the ensuing clap of thunder and roared; a primal scream of triumph that was mirrored by his followers who looked on with rapt attention. The Taung clanmaster thrust his hand into the air and shouted, "_Kote darasuum par Mand'alor!"_

The other Taung echoed the victory cry back to him, shouting, "_Glory eternal to Mandalore!"_

Then Mandalore reached down and wrapped a long-fingered hand around Vhetin's throat, hauling him up with one arm. Vhetin tried to struggle, but found himself overpowered by Mandalore's superior strength. The bloodied Taung pivoted and dragged him toward the damaged sacrificial pedestal in the center of the village. With a grunt, he hoisted his prey onto its surface, slamming him down hard against the rough-hewn stone. Moments later, two loyal warriors approached and held Vhetin fast against the stone surface.

With a triumphant sneer, Mandalore reached down and dug his talons into Vhetin's flak vest, tearing the armored suit away until his bare chest was exposed to the cold night air. Another brilliant fork of lightning lit up the sky as Mandalore reached to his belt and drew the bloodied sacrificial knife, holding it high so his fellow Taung could see.

"_Let his blood spill the ground!"_ Mandalore called. "_And let his vanquished spirit awaken the Holy Serpents from slumber!"_

He was about to plunge the dagger down into Vhetin's chest when a loud whistling sound cut over the driving rain. A dull _thunk_ followed, and Mandalore staggered back. Vhetin craned his neck to follow him.

The Taung leader had a four-foot spear jutting from his chest.

The guards holding him down roared and drew their weapons, their prisoner forgotten momentarily. Vhetin quickly scrambled off the blood-soaked pedestal, scooping up his lightsaber pike as it fell from Mandalore's slackening fingers.

Another Taung was striding forward into the flickering firelight, ignoring the screeches and screams of the other Taung crowded around. The jungle-dwelling aliens crowded closer, penning forming a tight circle around the center of the village. The scrape of weapons being drawn from their sheaths drowned out all sound for a few moments, and Vhetin was sure he'd never seen so many bared blades in his life. Every Taung present had drawn a weapon, furious at this newcomer.

But, amazingly, Mandalore raised a fist and motioned for his clanmates to stand down. The Taung glanced between each other and Mandalore consecutively, wonder in their eyes. As Vhetin watched, the _Kar'ta Epar_ clanmaster reached up and dragged the spear from his chest. The sharpened _beskar_ point had penetrated his rough-hewn armor, but not enough to kill him.

Mandalore grasped the spear tightly and leveled the sharpened head, still dripping with his own blood, at the newcomer.

"_I have overlooked your treachery for far too long, Werd'cetara_."

The newcomer spread his tattooed arms wide. He had a _beskad_ clutched in one hand. "_All my life, I have sought only the safety and preservation of our people. But now our ways condemn us, father. You must see this!"_

_"Our ways _preserve_ us! How long have we survived in the forests by following these traditions?"_

Werd shook his head, dreadlocks flying in the muggy jungle wind. Rain pattered against the faceplate of his mask. "_They have only trapped us in a place we were never meant to rule_."

He turned in a full circle, addressing the crowd of Taung surrounding them. "_Hear me, my clan! The metal men are not our enemies! They are Mandalorian, just as surely as we are!"_

Mandalore snarled, lips curling back from sharpened teeth. _"Heresy!"_

Werd leveled the sword at his father. "_Do not attempt to deny the truth, father. Do we not have legends of their kind? Powerful Mandalorians who traveled the stars, wielding weapons of light and fire to conquer all before them?"_

He shook his head. "_Your devotion to our ancient traditions has blinded you. The metal men _are_ us. And we can coexist if we merely accept this truth!"_

Werd stepped toward his father. Mandalore did not back away or lower his weapon. "_Your ideals protected us in times of war. Your steadfast mind and courageous heart guided us to great victories within the shelter of these trees. But the time for blind obedience and ancient tradition has passed."_

He spread his arms again. "_I would lead the forest clans to greatness once more! I would see our people restored to their rightful place among the stars! It is a future that is within our grasp, if you would only have the prudence to see the wisdom of peace!_"

Vhetin backed away, clutching his pike close to his chest. The Taung surrounding the sacrificial altar were growing more and more agitated. They tossed their heads or made cutting motions across their throats, weapons drawn and more than ready to be used.

It wouldn't take much for this to degrade into an all-out war. He had managed to hold off Mandalore with minimal injuries, but he couldn't hope to take on this entire clan with only his pike and his wits to help him.

Mandalore grasped his spear with both hands, flexing his grip over the leather-bound shaft. "_You shame me with your cowardice, my son. A Mandalorian finds strength in combat, not peace_."

"_Then let it be so_," Werd said. He raised his arms once more, voice rising to a shout. "_If my father will not see the wisdom of my words, then peace will be forged on sands stained with his blood!"_

He turned and leveled his blade at Mandalore. "_I call for a Battle Circle. I would face you in single combat, father. You will surrender to the wisdom of my words or I will forcefully take your place as Mandalore of our people._"

A hush fell over the crowd, with Taung muttering between themselves. It was obvious that such a challenge was not to be taken lightly. Vhetin had heard of the ancient Battle Circle rite before, and had even participated in the modern version – a friendly fighting competition held annually in Keldabe. Clearly this Battle Circle was far more lethal.

Mandalore's face drew down in a furious scowl, his craggy and battle-scarred face twisting into a mask of hatred and rage. He reached up and ripped his cape free, letting it flutter away in the storm. A roar ripped itself from his throat as he tilted his head to the sky and spread his arms in challenge.

Werd also tore his mask away from his face, letting it fall to the mud at his feet. The furious expression on his angular face matched that of his father's. He grasped his blade in both hands and advanced.

Vhetin saw several Taung shove through the crowd to his right, forming a narrow corridor through the masses. Beyond the crowd, he saw the unmistakable form of human Rangers, gesturing furiously for him to follow them.

He didn't need to be asked twice. He sprinted for the edge of the battle circle and didn't look back. A few of the Taung in the gathering reached for him with outreached talons, but the ones parting the crowd shoved them back and muttered something about returning the prisoner to his enclosure, that the Battle Circle was meant for combatants only.

Vhetin sprinted through the ranks of assembled Taung, beyond relieved to be away from their glowing yellow eyes. He dashed to the treeline, where the other Rangers were waiting for him. After skidding safely into the foliage, he saw that several lanky Taung were hiding with them.

He gestured to the _Kar'ta Epar'e_. "What the kriff are _they_ doing here?"

A weary-looking Lee shook his head and gestured for him to shut up. "It's a long story. They're with us."

"Are you sure?"

"They want peace as much as we do. We're trying to help Werd to seize power."

Vhetin glanced over his shoulder and listened to the telling clash of heavy metal blades crashing together. "_Really_? We're in the middle of enemy territory with creatures that literally want to _eat us_, and you're staging a coup?"

"You have another way out of here?"

Vhetin hesitated, face pulling into a scowl. "You have a point. What's the plan?"

Lee nodded, then gestured to the outskirts of the village. "There are other pens across the way, stocked with Rangers who have been trapped here for months. Supposedly there are some Kelborns trapped in there too. If we spring them, we may have enough clout to stand a chance against these Taung."

"_We have siblings hidden among the ranks of the clan_," one of the _Kar'ta Epar'e _growled in _Mando'a_. "_They will sow confusion and chaos when called."_

The alien clapped his fist into the open palm of his hand._ "In the ensuing battle, you and your allies will show that Taung and metal man can fight as one. The others will be forced to join us or fall to our combined strength."_

Vhetin glanced at Lee. "So your plan is to make a small army from prisoners who have been trapped in cages, beaten, and starved for the last few months? We may not be the most effective fighting force."

Lee rolled his eyes and stepped closer to the tree line. "Yeah, well it's the only weapon we've got. Let's just hope our buddy Werd doesn't get killed in the Battle Circle."

Vhetin hefted his lightsaber pike, ready to activate it at a moment's notice. "I'm following your lead."

~~~~~~~~

Laamyc'lar, known as High-Song to her brethren, picked her way through the underbrush with careful precision. She had chanced moving down to the forest floor in order to more clearly spot any other metal men that may have discovered the village. Any sane Taung would stick to the canopy, but her mission was not one of violence and bloodshed.

Werd'cetara's orders in this matter were clear; she was to intercept any other metal men – _hyoomans, _they called themselves – and approach with offers of peace and cooperation. The metal men within the cages of the village were open to the idea, so it stood to reason that others would follow in their stead.

Werd was risking a civil war among the clans with his coup attempt. Despite her belief in his words, Laamyc had to admit that the idea turned her stomach. The Taung needed strength and unity above all else. And with the metal men encroaching deeper and deeper into the territory of her forefathers, she knew that the _Kar'ta Epar'e _needed to band together or perish in the attempt.

Peace with the metal men was the only lasting solution to this problem. If diplomacy could win out over death, perhaps the metal men could be convinced to respect the Taung's territorial boundaries. The smaller, armored warriors were far from difficult to kill – Laamyc had several notches on her own sword hilt from metal man kills – but their persistence and relentless pace worried her far more than their actual fighting prowess.

For every metal man she or her brothers killed, five seemed to take their place. Wherever they went, they brought destruction. Laamyc and her clan had seen the metal men and their own villages of hard metal and stone, hidden in the trees away from prying eyes. They infested the jungle as surely as rot-bugs infested the trees, and war would only hasten their approach.

Laamyc leaped over a fallen tree, landing amid the filth and muck of the rainy jungle floor. She gripped her spear close to her chest, golden eyes raking over the forest floor for signs of danger. Then she huffed out a low breath and continued on.

Peace was the only true solution to the problem of the metal men. She did not idolize the armored soldiers like Werd'cetara and she had no desires to harness their technology for mutual gain; the Holy Serpents were relics of a bygone age, and should remain so. Her only desire was to live out her days in glory among her siblings in the trees.

The only true way to realize that goal was to ensure the metal men left them alone. Continuing the ritualistic slaughter – no matter what Mandalore said – would only drive the metal men to greater and greater extremes. At the end of such conflict, would the forest even remain standing? Or would the metal men simply burn it all and be done with it?

She snarled low in her throat, lips curling as she prowled around a large boulder, spear at the ready.

She wanted no true with the metal men. Indeed, nothing gave her more pleasure than to see the intruders with their hearts ripped still-beating from their chests. But Werd was right; the only hope for the jungle clans was to unite in peaceful diplomacy with those who lived beyond the forest.

A flock of birds raced up into the treetops, startled by sudden movement to her left. She whipped around with spear leveled, prepared for a charging jungle beast. Instead, she saw a small squad of bipedal figures, carrying swords and spears.

They obviously saw her; they were pointing and whispering among themselves. Her golden eyes narrowed, but she forced herself to lower her spear and adopt a more welcoming posture. She raised one hand in greeting and called out in _Mando'a._

"_Hail, hyoomans! I bring word from your allies. Will you greet me in peace?"_

More whispering. Finally, one of the figures stepped through the foliage and approached. Laamyc saw the smoldering orange flare of a smokestick before the figure stepped into the little ambient light that filtered down through the trees.

It was a tall human male, his hair grown long and wild and adorned with beads and other decorations. He was muscular and tattooed, and his pale blue eyes carried a cold air not unlike Laamyc's own gaze. Strapped across one arm was a heavy, battle-scarred shield. He carried himself like a seasoned warrior, though his haughty swagger suggested he was not afraid of her.

"_Identify yourself_," the man growled, responding to her in _Mando'a_.

She placed a hand over her chest and bowed her head. "_Laamyc'lar, High-Song, of Clan Ca'burcyan. I come offering peace to you and your fellows."_

The man raised a single eyebrow and puffed on his smokestick, looking back to his companions with a chuckle and a slurry of words in a language foreign to Laamyc's tongue. He eventually turned back to her and said, "_Our brothers and sisters. Where are they?"_

She gestured over her shoulder, back the way she had come. _"Assisting my friend, Werd'cetara, to defeat his father – the Mandalore of the clan – and ensure lasting peace between my people and yours. Will you lend your blades in assistance?"_

A steely look passed into the long-haired man's gaze. "_Your leader… he has the gall to take the name Mandalore?"_

"_It is a tradition, and unimportant at this time. Will you assist?"_

The man chuckled again, though there was no mirth in his eyes. "_Oh we'll assist. But we won't assist you, Heart-Eater."_

He raised one arm, bringing to bear one of the metal men's angular weapons. Laamyc tried to throw herself out of the way, to bring her spear up in defense. But it was too late. There was a flash of bright red light and a deafening report of sound. Then another. And another.

Laamyc crashed to the ground, feeling fire race through her chest. Her spear fell from weakening fingers, and she let out a low moan of pain.

The blue-eyed man stared at her with no sympathy in his gaze. He merely raised his weapon again and said, "_When you see the Reaper, tell him you're a gift from me."_

Another blast of light and sound, and Laamyc'lar, known as High-Song, knew nothing more.

~~~~~~~~

Norac Benz holstered his blaster and stepped over the still-smoldering corpse of the Heart-Eater at his feet. He circled his hand in the air, signaling for his men to fall in behind him.

"Come on, boys," he called, drawing his sword into his hand. "The bastards are close. Let's give 'em a good show."


	17. Father and Son

The Taung was dead before he could react to the sound of a lightsaber igniting behind him. One moment he was patrolling back and forth, sharp yellow eyes passing over the jungle before him. Then, before he could even flinch, a half-foot bar of glowing blue-white plasma erupted from his chest.

Vhetin caught the alien before the body could crash loudly to the ground. He deactivated his saber and eased the body to the jungle floor, motioning for the others to move up. The other Rangers at his back crept through the underbrush, their weapons – both real and makeshift – held at the ready. They moved almost silently, as swiftly and efficiently as a jungle cat on the hunt.

Once he had hidden the body in a nearby cluster of bushes, Vhetin stepped toward the final holding cage to join the others. His helmet sensors were acting up from the damage his hardware had taken over the past few hours, but his motion sensors weren't picking up any further enemy contacts. They were clear, at least for the moment.

Lee was already hard at work cutting through the bars of the cage with a serrated _beskad_ blade. It took effort to saw through the thick ironbark bars, but eventually there was a large enough opening for those inside to clamber through to freedom. Lee gestured to them and hissed, "Move your asses! The Corps isn't paying you by-the-hour hazard pay, you know."

The captive men and women were quickly helped to safety by their companions and a few reluctant Taung. The weakest were escorted to the safest place the group could find; a hollowed-out tree that seemed to serve as a smokehouse. It had a heavy wooden door with a bar lock and would keep out attackers for a short time. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do.

Only those who were able to fight – since all were more than willing – were given weapons and told to join their group. They had freed three other groups of captive Rangers, all members of the earlier ambush or missing patrols. It seemed the _Kar'ta Epar'e_ were not as lethal as the Rangers had originally thought; many of the missing men had only been captured and saved for sacrifice at a later date.

Vhetin watched the others regroup. Their miniature army now consisted of almost thirty men and women. All of them were tired, sore, and wounded. But with Taung support – and an _osik-_load of luck – they might just be able to stage an effective counteroffensive. It was a long shot, but Vhetin had survived worse plans in the past.

He didn't hear someone at his side until one of the allied Taung let out a short huff of breath. Vhetin glanced over at the alien, who was staring with narrowed eyes at their newest recruits. The Taung's shoulder-length dreadlocks waved in the humid jungle wind, rainwater making his thick hide shimmer in the moonlight. But what stood out the most was that furious glowing golden gaze that raked across the jungle like a shriek-hawk searching for its prey.

The Taung were an impressive people, to be sure. Even after being cut off for so long in the jungle, they had not abandoned their warrior roots. They were primitive and savage, but they still carried that spark of the _Manda _within them. Vhetin wished that his cultural ancestors hadn't adopted the practice of ritualistic human sacrifice, but beggars couldn't be choosers. Some of the clan had agreed to help. He counted himself lucky they had made it this far.

He glanced at the Taung again. "_Do you think this will be enough?"_

The _Kar'ta Epar's _lip curled and he snarled, "_Against Mandalore and his followers? We could have thrice this number and I would still find the odds concerning."_

Vhetin scowled and turned back to the other Rangers. "_We metal men aren't as inept as you seem to think. We've been trained for decades, the same as you."_

"_That remains to be seen_," the Taung grunted noncommittally. He shook his head, the beads in his dreadlocks clicking. He eventually glanced over his shoulder, to the flickering firelight of the central clearing where Vhetin could still hear the clash of swords.

The Taung obviously heard the clamor as well. "_We cannot leave Werd to battle his father for long. We must hurry."_

"_I thought we didn't have enough people_."

"_In this matter we have little choice, unfortunately_. _Werd is a fine warrior, but he is no match for the brute strength and power of his father. And any chance of peace between my people and yours will die with Werd if he does not have help."_

The Taung turned away and hefted its spear with a snarl. "_If our coup is to happen, it happens now."_

He motioned for his fellows. "_Come, siblings! A battle awaits us!"_

Lee stepped up to Vhetin's shoulder. "He's certainly excited, isn't he?"

"He's a revolutionary," Vhetin muttered. "You're surprised?"

Lee shook his head as he handed a sword to one of the formerly imprisoned Rangers. "Can't say that I am, now that you mention it."

He glanced back at the others. "You think we have a chance?"

Vhetin narrowed his eyes behind his helmet. The only way he had a chance to get home – the only way _any _of them were getting home – was by following this plan. If not, he and the others would be thrown right back into their prison and ritualistically slaughtered like the poor _vode_ that had preceded them.

"I don't care if we have a chance or not," he eventually said. "I'm going home. And you're coming with me. I swear to _te Manda _that I'll kill any Taung that stands in the way."

Lee thumped a fist against his chest plates in affirmation. "_Oya_."

Vhetin gestured after the Taung and jerked his head, drawing his saber pike into his hands once more. "C'mon. Let's go kill us a warlord."

~~~~~~~~

Werd leaped forward to drive his sword toward his father's chest. The blade clashed against Mandalore's spear and was quickly shoved off to the side. Werd turned the deflection into a swift riposte that send Mandalore hopping away from the blade. Their blades danced and flashed through the night, sending sparks flying as they collided again and again. Their taloned feet churned the dirt underfoot into thick muck in the jungle rain, and Werd felt sweat pouring down his face from the concentration. Eventually, he saw an opening and threw a shoulder into his opponent's chest, sending the two fighters staggering away from each other.

The clanmaster was breathing heavily, rain and sweat running down his face in equal measure. He rested his hands on his knees as he caught his breath, pointing his spear at his son's chest.

"_You are certainly bold, challenging me in this way. But I have not ruled this long without learning to turn away would-be challengers_."

Werd pressed his advantage, slamming his sword down against Mandalore's spear. Mandalore brought his spear up to parry the attack just in time. The descending blow sent the clanmaster's heels digging into the dirt, but he didn't budge beyond that. Werd grimaced, throwing all of his considerable strength behind his sword.

_"Your ways blind you to the truth, old man," _his voice was a furious snarl._ "If our people are to survive, they will survive under _my_ rule, not yours."_

Mandalore shoved his son away and stabbed with his spear. The blade punctured Werd's armor, stabbing deep just under his ribs. Before the spearhead could continue deeper into his body, Werd grasped the shaft and halted its progress. With a grunt, he yanked the weapon free and wrenched his arm to the side.

The wooden shaft splintered into sharp slivers and the spearhead clattered into the dirt. Mandalore whirled the broken pike in front of him, using it as a blunt-force instrument now, and landed three blows to his son's head and shoulders before Werd could even begin to anticipate an attack.

Werd staggered back, feeling blood beginning to soak his side. He wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. His father was larger and stronger, and had years of combat experience bolstering his attacks. He would fall soon if the others did not uphold their part of the plan.

_I made a terrible gamble, challenging my father like this,_ he thought. _I only hope it was a well-founded one. Even if I fall, my actions may yet inspire others. Pray that they are watching…_

He stepped forward and parried the next flurry of blows from his father. Mandalore's attacks were as swift and precise as a striking Jaig Hawk, and each successful strike left Werd gasping and staggering away in pain.

Thunder rumbled overhead as Werd yanked his sword back and struck forward with a powerful sweeping kick to Mandalore's legs. Mandalore threw himself into a tight front-flip and dodged the blow. He slashed at Werd's back and sent his son staggering.

The elder Taung didn't give him a second's reprieve. Relentlessly he pressed his attack, focusing on Werd's weakest points: the head to disorient him, the wounded ribs to weaken him, and the legs to trip him up. When his son tried to counterattack, he pulled his weapon in a swift hooking motion and knocked the blade from Werd's hand. The blade thumped into the dirt and Mandalore struck with a series of attacks that drove the young warrior to his hands and knees.

Werd collapsed into the mud, his breath coming to him in short, pained gasps. He clutched at his side as he furiously tried to rise to his feet again. He stumped and fell face-first into the mud with a defeated groan.

Mandalore watched his son with a merciless gaze. He slowly reached down and picked up Werd's fallen sword, inspecting the blade as he circled his fallen opponent.

"_You cannot hope to best me, son_," Mandalore growled. "_Would that I could simply imprison you until you learned that your defiance is a useless endeavor. But you have publically challenged me. That cannot go without retribution."_

Werd looked up through the rain and his own streaming eyes to see dark figures creeping through the underbrush, sticking to the shadows outside the mass of Taung that were surrounding the duel. He spotted the metal man – Lee, he called himself – crouching low behind a tree stump. He shot Werd a thumbs-up and raised a sharp-edged _beskad _in preparation.

Mandalore stepped closer and raised his sword, prepared for a stroke that would sever his son's head at the shoulders. "_Alone, you stood no chance against me._ _Perhaps my next son will be less a fool._"

"_Alone?_" Werd's laugh quickly broke into a coughing fit. He wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and gasped, "_Who said I was alone?"_

With a roar, the hidden solders burst forward to battle. They leaped from the underbrush, dropped from the trees, or simply charged out into the open with weapons held high. Werd was astonished at their numbers; they must have successfully freed every prison cell in the village!

The other Taung spectators scattered at the surprise attack, breaking apart to engage the new intruders. The sacrificial clearing was suddenly filled with the clang of _beskar_ weapons and the shout of fighting soldiers. Chaos reigned wherever Werd's eyes focused. Blood sprayed through the air, further dampening the ground underfoot.

Werd scrambled back to his feet and threw a shoulder into his surprised father. Mandalore was driven away, far enough that Werd could yank his sword from his father's grasp once more and bring it to bear with a steady two-handed grip.

Mandalore staggered right into a cluster of fighting Taung and humans. He barely paused to take stock of the situation; within a blink he had grabbed the nearest human by the throat and wrenched a _beskad _from his tiny pink hands. He then tossed the human to the side like a child with a straw doll and advanced on Werd with fury in his eyes.

"_My brothers… they walk among your heretics_?" Mandalore snarled. "_My sisters march with _you_?"_

Werd charged forward and attacked with renewed strength. He slashed his blade down in a powerful overhead strike that Mandalore barely parried in time. He followed with a horizontal blow that Mandalore had to duck to avoid. Werd's blade hissed through the air as he drove his father back, his limbs flooded with renewed strength. "_They march for the belief that peace will strengthen us all! Do you see now the damage your traditions have done? The dissension they have caused?"_

Mandalore roared and slammed Werd's sword aside with strength Werd couldn't hope to counter. He reached forward and grabbed his son by the throat, hoisting him bodily off the ground and slamming him down against the broken sacrificial pedestal. Werd hit the stone surface with a _crack_ and a shout of pain. Mandalore brought his sword down, but Werd rolled to the side, falling off the pedestal and onto the ground. He quickly staggered to his feet to see his father leveling his blade.

"_Your ideals have brought this war upon us!" _Mandalore shouted. "_You have brought death and destruction to our people!"_

As if to make his point, the sudden sound of blaster fire drew Werd's attention. The sound came from an overwhelmed metal man who had switched from his sword to his ranged weapon to fend off his attackers. A hail of bright red energy bolts felled first one, then two, then three Taung that were pressing in on him. Even more followed before the human was forced to reload. The opening gave the Taung the time they needed: within seconds, the man was skewered by three different sharp-tipped spears.

A hard fist suddenly smashed against Werd's nose and a swift kick to the gut brought him to his knees again. Another kick sent him sprawling onto his back. Mandalore towered over him, eyes filled with fire as rain pattered around them and lighting split the sky overhead.

Werd coughed and tried to rise to his feet. But the wound in his side and the exertion of battle had sapped his strength completely now. All he could manage was to wipe away the blood dripping down his nose and gasp, "_Kill me if you must, father. But I fight to strengthen my people, not leave them mired in a history that is no longer theirs. Our destiny lies beyond this forest, among the stars! You cannot hinder that forever._"

Mandalore knelt and wrapped his long-fingered hands around Werd's throat. "_Your destiny lies in the dirt, traitor. You will be fed upon by maggots and carrion beasts. And when your bones have gone back to dust, no one will remain to remember you or your heresies._"

Werd choked and struggled against his father's iron grip, but could not escape. The hands around his throat tightened further still, cutting off all breath from his lungs. He gasped for air and writhed in the mud, watching as his vision began to darken around the edges. He reached up and tried to claw at Mandalore's eyes, but the elder Taung simply shook him off and squeezed tighter.

"_You were my eldest!_" he shouted as Werd sputtered and gagged beneath his hands. "_You were to succeed me in protecting the clans from the dangers of the forest! Instead, you have only brought destruction to yourself and your people! You are a shame to me and all my forefathers!_"

A human leaped from seemingly thin air to assist Werd, but Mandalore simply batted the human away. He removed his hands from Werd's throat for a moment to wrap them around the human's neck and wrench them sideways. The man's head twisted at an odd angle, and his corpse crumpled to the ground.

Mandalore stared at the body for a moment, as if pondering something difficult. Then he slowly reached down to the human's belt and pulled away a thin, angular blaster. He stared at it curiously, passing it between his hands. He flinched when his finger pressed the firing stud too hard and the pistol discharged into the ground.

Gripping the blaster tightly in one hand, he turned back to his son and knelt in the dirt next to him. He raised the pistol and pressed it squarely between Werd's eyes. Werd tried to scramble away, out of range, but Mandalore pinned him to the jungle floor with one heavy knee. He narrowed his eyes, lip curling.

"_Die as you lived, my son: a failure_."

Werd's mind was racing, searching for something – anything – to deliver him from this fate. He could not die now. He _would _not die now. His people needed him more than ever, and—

Before Mandalore could pull the firing stud an earth-shattering roar echoed through the jungle, loud enough to drown out all other sounds. Everyone still present in the clearing instantly froze and turned toward the clamor.

Seconds later, the roar came again, this time accompanied by the crash of falling trees.

Instantly, two bodyguards were at Mandalore's side, spears held at the ready. One of them glanced at the elder Taung and barked, "_What is that noise? One of the river serpents?"_

Mandalore shook his head. "_I have not heard this beast call in my lifetime. Exercise caution."_

He glanced down at Werd with a sneer. "_The gods have seen fit to spare you for a few minutes more. Perhaps you are more use to me alive."_

He snarled for the two bodyguards to restrain his son, and the Taung quickly set to their work. The sounds from the jungle were only growing louder and closer. As the guards hauled Werd to his feet and bound his hands behind his back, he saw that the fighting in the clearing had stopped, at least momentarily. The Taung and humans alike were staring with wonder and fear at the jungle that surrounded them. The black-armored one – Vhetin, he called himself – ignited his glowing energy blade and held it close to his chest, preparing for a fight.

The sounds were right on top of them now, and Werd could hear the sound of heavy footsteps pounding through the underbrush. He saw Mandalore tense, gesturing for his followers to prepare for a fight. The Taung that had remained throughout the ambush – over twenty in all – quickly formed a defensive line with their weapons at the ready. The humans, rather than take advantage of the distraction, grouped together to form a defense of their own. For now, the animosity between the groups had died, their focus instead on a much more pressing threat.

Werd saw a flash of reflective black armor plating a moment before something huge and _very_ angry burst through the trees. It was a beast, taller at the shoulder than a Taung and bristling with muscle and armor. The monster charged into the clearing with a roar that shook the ground beneath their feet, flailing its thick tail as it approached.

"_Attack!" _Mandalore ordered, and the Taung loosed everything they had; arrows, spears, even thrown swords. All the projectiles simply bounced off the creature's shimmering hide.

Werd took advantage of the distraction to break free; he drove his head into one captor's jaw, then spun and lashed out with a whirling kick to the other. Both Taung collapsed to the ground, leaving Werd free to rip his arms free of the flimsy restraints and grab the nearest weapon.

The shining creature was joined by two more beasts that rampaged through the treeline into the open. Werd could see a flash of armor here, glowing red eyes there. The beasts were a whirlwind of destruction as they smashed into the Taung defensive line. Bodies flew through the air as the creatures' sharp talons and swift-striking tails made short work of the lightly-armored Taung facing them.

Werd flinched as he heard a deafening report and saw one of the creatures unleash a hail of blasterfire from cannons mounted on its shoulders. Another creature grabbed the nearest Taung in one massive paw and smashed the body into the ground. The third charged forward into a knot of five warring Taung and all five were pummeled into the ground as the beast continued its devastating advance.

Mandalore sprinted toward the new beasts with a drawn sword and a roaring battle cry. He barely made it into the fight, however, before one of the creatures spun and leveled him with a blow from its tail. Mandalore was smashed hard against the ground. He rolled a few meters and came to a rest, face-down in the muck. He didn't move again.

"_Protect Mandalore!"_ one of his loyal followers shouted. "_Fall back and protect the clanmaster!"_

A few of the Taung fell back to defend their fallen leader, but the others were too busy defending themselves to hear. A heavily-muscled warrior was hoisted into the air by a grasping appendage on the end of one beast's tail, then hurled at the nearest building. The warrior burst through the wood and straw with an almighty crash and didn't remerge.

Werd's mind was blank. He charged forward with a shout toward the nearest beast, sword held at the ready. He leaped into battle and slashed at the charging monster's leg.

His sword bounced away with a loud _clang_.

He quickly regained his footing, ducking a vicious swipe from the creature's taloned paw, and stabbed at its glowing red eyes. His attack was met with a shower of sparks and a high-pitched roar from the beast. He hopped back at the inevitable counterattack and stabbed again, meeting the same result. He was about to move in for the kill when a massive weight hit him from the side and pinned him to the ground.

He saw one of the beasts towering over him and a second later it crouched low and roared into his face. He was buffeted by a blast of heat, the immovable weight on his chest making him sink into the soggy ground. The creature pinning him reared up again, preparing to strike, when a powerful voice cut through the din.

"_Hold!"_

Within a heartbeat, everything stopped. The beasts stopped roaring and flailing, the screaming fell away to silence, and everything went still. The weight pinning Werd to the ground lifted as the creature fell back a few paces and lashed its tail along the jungle floor.

Werd instantly scrambled away from the beast, eyes wide. He fought to rise back to his feet, assisted by a few allies who rushed forward to help him from the battle. The three great creatures had fallen still, watching the assembled Taung with those blazing red eyes. As Werd watched, a dark, humanoid figure dismounted from the creature's back and strode toward them.

The rider emerged into the light, and Werd was both fascinated and appalled to see that it was a metal man. Or, more precisely, it was a metal _woman_. She wore blood red armor adorned with dark stripes and sigils, and she had a long blue cape fastened to her shoulders. A hefty pair of pistols were in each hand, and both were pointed at his chest.

_She must be a warrior of great importance, _he thought in a haze of shock.

Then his gaze fell upon the still creatures behind her and his jaw very nearly dropped. He heard reverent whispers break out throughout the clearing as the besieged Taung took in the creatures before them.

What Werd had mistaken for blazing red eyes were actually glowing scarlet photoreceptors. What he had believed to be thick bands of muscle were actually twisted messes of wire and thick conduits of durafiber. The creatures' talons were sharpened steel, splattered with equal parts mud and blood. The flexible, flailing tails were studded with shining black armor plating and capped with barbed grasping appendages. The mechanical beasts surveyed the clearing before them with dead crimson eyes, their hulking chassis shifting in a synthetic mockery of breath.

Werd had never seen anything so magnificent in his life.

He instantly fell to his knees, face turned down to the bloodied muck beneath him. He could both see and hear other Taung around him doing the same, all crying, "_The Holy Serpents! The Holy Serpents live once more! It is a blessed day!"_

The woman was drawing near enough to speak now. He bowed his head at her approach, not trusting himself to meet her helmeted gaze.

"_Hail, hyooman," _he intoned._ "Are you friend or foe?"_

The woman looked surprised at his use of archaic _Mando'a_, but replied in kind, "_That entirely depends on you. What the hell is going on here?"_

Werd kept his eyes on the ground. "_I am attempting to seize power from my father, so that I may assist these lost metal men in returning to their ancestral home."_

He gestured in the vague direction of the other humans. The woman followed his pointing finger and a great mass of tension immediately vanished from her shoulders. She looked down at him and sighed, "_You just said the magic words, friend_."

She gestured to the creatures behind her and barked something in her harsh native tongue. Instantly, other riders began to dismount from the backs of the Holy Serpents and made their way across the clearing toward the tight cluster of Rangers waiting for them.

One of the humans, a female with long brown hair, smiled widely at the sight of the black-armored warrior, Vhetin. She moved forward to embrace him, but before she could, there was a blur of blue-yellow armor and another warrior threw her arms around the man, hugging him so tightly Werd could hear their armor clack together even from his distance. The brown-haired female blushed and hung back, staring at her boots.

The woman in front of him snapped her fingers and said, "_Hey. Eyes up here, big guy."_

His yellow gaze snapped back to her and she continued, "_How many of our people are still standing?"_

Werd shook his head, dreadlocks rustling. The rain was finally beginning to taper off, the clouds beginning to clear away from the moon high overhead. "_I do not know. Many were sacrificed tonight. But many yet live_."

"_Sacrificed? What the hell do you mean, _sacrificed_?"_

"_Please_," Werd interrupted. "_My father is still the prevalent threat. As long as he lives, your people remain in danger. Help me to defeat him, and—"_

_"There is no need_."

Werd turned sharply to see his father walking toward him, eyes wide. His sword was limp in his hands and he made no move to attack, even when the red-armored woman trained her weapons on him. He had eyes only for the hulking Serpents arrayed before him. He drew even with Werd and looked down at his son with tears streaming down his gaunt cheeks.

"_Our people_," he gasped, "_have waited eons for this day. To see the Holy Serpents walk among the living once more… And now they appear, on the dawning of your treachery, bearing metal men upon their backs!"_

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "_I have been foolish. So foolish to doubt your words, my son."_

He extended a hand to Werd. "_I ask for no forgiveness, Werd'cetara. But know that you stand the victor this day. I was wrong. So wrong about so many things…"_

Werd narrowed his eyes. "_A Mandalore does not surrender, even when his life is in jeopardy. How can I know you speak the truth?"_

Mandalore gestured to the great machines standing before him. "_The Holy Serpents live! The Gods have seen fit to grant us our place in this world once more! And the metal men are their heralds! Can you not see it?"_

He reversed his grip on his sword and stabbed it hard into the ground. It stuck there, pommel pointed toward the sky. He then turned to Werd and stripped the tattered cape from his shoulders. With a whimper, the once-mighty warrior fell to his knees and offered the bloody and mud-stained red cloth up to his son.

_"In this regard,"_ he murmured, "_I have failed my people. You spoke words of wisdom that I did not – could not – heed. I am not fit to lead our people to glory. But you, my son… you are the leader they need in this glorious and confusing time."_

He bowed his head, dreadlocks falling to cover his face. "_I kneel before you and offer you my life as payment for my many misdeeds."_

The red-armored woman shook her head, then slowly lowered her pistols. She said nothing, though, and turned her attention cautiously to Werd.

Werd's eyes were wide. His father's words had reason; the Holy Serpents lived, just as the Gods had prophesized they would. The fact that the metal men had tamed them proved to one and all that they were the chosen of the Almighty Ones and not enemies as it was thought. Mandalore knew he would be punished for resisting this turn of events, just as he knew that the only options facing him were to resign his title or face death for heresy.

Werd slowly reached out, fingers brushing over the rough cloth of the cape. Then, with trembling fingers and a very acute knowledge of the number of eyes that were fixed on him, he drew the cloak from his father's hands and threw it around his own shoulders. With a flick of his wrists, he fastened the cape to his own armor.

It suddenly felt like an incredible weight had fallen upon him.

"_You are Mandalore now, my son_," his father said, eyes still turned to the dirt. "_Do with me what you will."_

Werd hesitated, then put a hand on his father's shoulder. The old Taung looked up to his son with a hesitant gaze.

The new Mandalore shook his head. "_I will not kill you, father."_

Tears welled in the old Taung's eyes and he rose to his feet to wrap his son in a desperate, tight hug. Werd threw his arms around his father and returned the hug, reveling in the affection that had vanished from the clanmaster so long ago.

They remained that way for a time, the old Mandalore greeting the new, until the father drew back with a smile on his gaunt and pointed face.

"_Lead our people to the glory I could not see, my son."_

Werd nodded, a determined set to his jaw. "_I will_. _I promise to lead our people with the honor and grace befitting a child of the jungle. You have my word._"

Too late, Werd saw the tiny red spot on his father's forehead. The red-armored woman saw it too, for she instantly sprinted forward and shouted something in her alien tongue. Werd did not know what was going to happen, just that it was going to be bad.

A moment later, there was a loud _crack_ and the back of Mandalore's head exploded.

~~~~~~~~

Norac Benz reached up and plucked the charred smokestick from his lips, grinding out the embers on the tree trunk next to him. He then pulled the sniper rifle back over the lip of the ledge and linked his arm through the straps of his shield. With his other hand, he drew his hefty battle axe into a firm grip, ready to leap into battle.

"All right," he hissed. "Let's get this show started."


	18. War and Peace

Things seemed to be happening too fast for even Vhetin to follow. One minute he had been standing with the other Rangers, watching with a mixture of awe and terror as the mighty Basilisk droids ripped into the ranks of Taung.

The carnage was unlike anything he'd seen before: bodies flying through the air, rampaging Taung crushed underfoot, roaring droids with flailing tails tearing the seemingly-invincible _Kar'ta Epar'e_ to pieces. Things had escalated to a terrifying level within the blink of an eye.

Then the fight had come to a jarring halt and Vhetin saw none other than Captain Tervho dismounting from the back of one of the mechanical beasts! He barely had time to wonder what she was doing before he had been all but tackled by a relieved and near-frantic Tamai.

"Thank _te Manda_," she cried, throwing her arms around him and hugging him so tight he heard his armor creak. When she finally pulled back, she headbutted him hard in the faceplate and shouted, "Don't you _ever _scare me like that again! Rule number one of jungle hunts: you stay with the kriffing group!"

"Duly noted," he managed to choke before she pulled him into a tight hug again.

"_Shab_…" she sighed, refusing to let him go. "For a while, I thought… I thought you were…"

She couldn't bring herself to say it, instead burying her helmeted face as best she could into his neck. He chuckled a little and hugged her back, murmuring, "I'm not going anywhere, Tamai. I promise."

"You'd better not," came the muffled response.

It felt… good, holding Tamai like this. Despite everything else that was happening around them, it somehow felt right. He felt his chest swell with something he hadn't felt in a long time, and a grin pulled at his lips despite his best efforts to quell it. He held her – if possible – even tighter, until she eventually pulled away, holding him at arms' length.

"You look like shit."

He grinned. "It's been a long night."

Jay stepped up to Tamai's shoulder, also smiling. Vhetin saw her and nodded, his heart soaring to see the two alive and unharmed. It felt as if a massive weight had been lifted from the pit of his stomach.

He reached out and grasped her arm in a firm Mando handshake. "I should have known a bunch of tree-huggers wouldn't be able to take you down, Jay."

Her face broke into a full grin at that and she also pulled him into a tight – albeit shorter – hug. When they separated, she said, "Are you okay? Is everyone else?"

Vhetin's mind unwillingly flashed back to the sight of the captive Mandalorian, torn apart on the sacrificial pedestal. He made a mental note to ensure the man's armor tabs were returned to his next of kin. "Not everyone is all right," he eventually reported. "But we rescued who we could."

Jay closed her eyes. "I was afraid of that."

Tamai had turned to watch the proceedings of Werd's talk with his father: currently, the two Taung were also wrapped in a desperate hug. She hooked her thumbs into her belt. "Looks like we made some allies."

"You sound unhappy about that," Jay remarked.

Tamai was silent.

Vhetin was about to respond and bring the others up to speed on the situation. After all, it must have been quite the confusing scene for them.

But the sharp _crack_ of a sniper rifle cut through the village and the back of Mandalore's head erupted into a fountain of gore. Vhetin jumped, his blood running cold at the sight. Jay's hands flashed up to cover her mouth in shock as Werd let out a choked cry of dismay. His father slipped from his arms, dead before he hit the ground.

Then everything exploded.

Vhetin's instincts kicked in; he grabbed Jay's shoulder and shoved her to the ground, to cover behind a nearby tree stump. He drew his lightsaber, while Tamai's sword flew into her hand. The crowd of Taung stared in shocked silence until one gravelly voice cried, "_Assassins! They have killed Mandalore!"_

In the span of an instant, the clearing was a battlefield once more. Vhetin caught a glimpse of Vhonte Tervho sprinting for her Basilisk once more, three Heart-Eaters hot on her tail. Then a Taung barreled into his chest, carrying them both to the ground.

Vhetin quickly brought his lightsaber up and stabbed it deep into the Heart-Eater's chest. The creature roared at him and headbutted him hard in the helmet. He tried to wriggle out from beneath the Taung, but his opponent's superior weight had him pinned.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar _snap-hiss_ and a flash of blue darted across his vision. Looking up, he saw the Taung no longer had a head. Jay was standing behind, her eyes wide. The lightsaber Vhetin had given her, seemingly a lifetime ago when they first arrived, was lit in her hands.

Vhetin quickly shoved the dead weight of the Taung off of him and leaped to his feet, scooping his lightsaber pike into his hands once more. He sprinted for Jay, slashing horizontally. She instinctively ducked, and his lightsaber blade carved its way across the chest of a charging Heart-Eater just behind her.

Jay whipped around, saw the dead Taung, and nodded to him in thanks. They fell into a familiar stance – back-to-back with weapons facing out, just like they had practiced a hundred times both in and outside of combat.

"What the hell just happened?" he shouted over the din of battle. He stabbed his pike deep into an advancing Taung, then kicked the corpse away. "We had everything under control!"

"Norac Benz!" she shouted back. "He has some kind of personal vendetta against the Heart-Eaters! Thinks it's his duty to kill them all! He must have taken the shot!"

Vhetin cursed as he pivoted and took off another Taung's hands at the elbows. His HUD readout showed Jay faring just as well; she threw herself into a graceful pirouette and slashed her blade across a Taung's legs, continuing her attack with a sharp stab to the back of the neck that killed her opponent quickly and cleanly. She instantly followed with a reverse-stab to a Taung that was taking advantage of her turned back. The blade sunk hilt-deep into the Heart-Eater's abdomen, halting his advance. Jay yanked the blade free and took his head off at the shoulders with a single clean stroke.

_Nice to know our sparring lessons weren't completely wasted_, he thought. Then he threw himself back into combat, fighting back-to-back with Jay once more as seemingly hundreds of Taung flooded into the clearing. He couldn't even see Tamai or any of the other Rangers, though he could hear the telltale roar of Basilisk droids tearing into the enemy nearby.

"What do we do?" Jay shouted, ducking out of the path of an enemy's spear. She severed the weapon and kicked the attacker away. "We're outnumbered!"

"Just keep fighting!" he said. "No time to think!"

He whirled his blade over his head and pivoted on one heel, bringing the blunt end of his staff across a Taung's angular face before reversing his grip and hacking at the alien's torso. The Heart-Eater fell, but was replaced by three more, armed with _beskads_. He backpedaled and opened up with a torrent of fire from his gauntlet-mounted flamethrower that consumed the onrushing aliens.

A feral shout from his left caught his attention and he turned to see Norac Benz in all his violent glory, using his trademark shield and axe to hack his way through the ranks of Taung. His Berserkers were all around him, adding to the carnage with their brutal and bloodthirsty charge.

Benz somersaulted as an opponent slashed at his head and came to his feet with his shield raised. The barrier deflected a blow meant for his head and he shoved his attacker away, burying his battleaxe in the Taung's back. He was soaked in dark blood and his hair was wild and messy, his blue eyes blazing with a bloodlust that made Vhetin's skin crawl.

He hit Jay's shoulder to get her attention, reinforcing his words with hand signals so she could understand him over the noise. "Come on! We need to stop Benz!"

She nodded and together the two sprinted for the Berserker leader, dodging or killing any Taung that stood in their way. As soon as they were close enough to Norac, Vhetin threw himself into a powerful overhead stab.

Norac must have seen them coming, because he quickly fell into a crouch and brought his shield up in defense. Vhetin's lightsaber collided harmlessly against the _beskar_ surface with a shower of sparks, though Benz was driven back a few inches by the force of the blow.

"You son of a bitch!" he shouted to the clanmaster. "We had everything under control! Why did you kill Mandalore?"

Benz shoved him away. "Why do you think? These aliens are savages, with no place among our people!"

"They _are_ our people!"

Norac stepped toward them, eyes filled with fire. Jay tried to attack, but found her blade ricocheting off Benz's shield. He darted forward and swung his battle axe, forcing her to hop out of reach. He turned his attention back to Vhetin and shouted, "You've seen their brutality first hand! How can you look at these murderers and claim they deserve to stand with us?"

Vhetin threw himself out of the way of Benz's descending axe; his lightsaber was powerful, but too small to block such a heavy _beskar _weapon. "We have to! The Rangers have no other choice!"

"There is _always_ a choice," the Berserker pressed, giving Vhetin no room or time to recover. He smashed his heavy shield up under Vhetin's chin, sending him sprawling into the dirt. Thankfully, Jay had recovered at this time and attacked from the rear. Benz was forced to turn and deal with her, giving Vhetin time to scramble back to his feet again.

"You're wrong!" he shouted as he and Jay pressed the clanmaster from both sides. Norac was a skilled and lethal combatant, but he was hard-pressed to simultaneously defend against two foes armed with lightsabers. He began to fall back, giving ground so he could dodge and parry their attacks.

He was so focused on his defense that he didn't see the lanky mass of muscles and tattoos that tackled him from behind. He let out a shout, his shield bouncing from his grip, as Werd'cetara carried them both the ground.

"_Murderer_!" the Taung roared, grabbing Benz by the back of his neck and smashing him face-first into the ground again. "_My father had surrendered! What honor-robbed coward kills a defenseless old man?"_

Benz cursed and grabbed a handful of sand. Pivoting, he threw the spray of dirt into Werd's eyes, forcing the Taung to fall back and clear his vision. In an instant Norac was on his feet again, hands balled into fists and raised for a fight. His weapons were out of reach; they had fallen at Vhetin and Jay's feet.

The two hunters fell back, watching the fighters prepare for a violent one-on-one battle. Around the battlefield, Vhetin noticed other Taung also taking note. They ceased fighting to watch, giving the overwhelmed Rangers time to fall back to safety.

But Werd gave them no such luxury. He gestured to the Taung surrounding him and barked, _"Seize them! Let them bear witness to the consequences of their actions!"_

The Taung were scattered and confused from the sudden loss of their leader, but they knew an order when they heard it. At the young warrior's command, the Heart-Eaters quickly overwhelmed the Rangers, grabbing them by their arms and wrenching their weapons from their grasps. Vhetin tried to fight back and managed to level one offending alien with a powerful punch. But a hard foot collided with the back of his knee and he fell forward, off balance. Rough hands grabbed at his armor and pulled his lightsaber pike from his grasp.

He was hauled back to his feet, held captive by strong alien hands. He saw Jay being subjected to similar treatment not far away; one of the Taung grabbed her roughly by the hair, an arm around her throat.

"_Watch and learn, metal man,"_ a dark voice hissed in Vhetin's ear. "_See the fate that will befall all your kind_."

Vhetin grunted, trying in vain to struggle against the iron grip that held him captive. "I thought we were on the same kriffing side!"

The _snap-hiss_ of his own lightsaber pike effectively silenced him. Another Taung was holding the weapon in a steady, two-handed grip. The alien's face stretched into a sharp-toothed grin as he held the humming blade up to Vhetin's throat.

"Right," he sighed, falling still. He exchanged a fearful glance with Jay. "Consider me warned."

Vhonte Tervho was not as understanding; a short distance away she was fighting furiously against her captors, lashing out with fists, feet, and even teeth. She would not be taken hostage so easily. Vhetin respected that, though he knew that her resistance would ultimately be futile.

All their fates now rested on the outcome of the battle circle.

Benz, meanwhile, wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, a savage grin pulling at his features. He dropped into a crouch, hair flying wildly about his face as he regarded Werd with flashing eyes.

"_You're a monster,"_ he said in _Mando'a_ so all the assembled Taung could hear. "_You butchered our people like animals! Whatever deal you made with the others won't fly with me."_

"_I gave no such order!" _Werd roared back. "_I never sought to harm your people! Such were the traditions of a bygone age!"_

"_That's a great comfort to the men whose hearts you ate like kriffing kurra fruits!"_

Werd tossed his head, dreadlocks flying in the wind. "_Enough of this."_

He drew his sword with one hand and a long dagger with the other. Then, shockingly, he dropped both to the ground. With one hand, he reached up and yanked the tattered red cape from his shoulders, followed by his heavy leather chestplate and shoulder pads. He balled his hands into fists, gesturing for Benz to approach.

"_Come then, murderer_," the Taung snarled, eyes glowing furiously. "_I will grant you the honorable death you did not allow my father._"

Benz grinned even wider, then reached down to his belt and drew his own knife, similarly discarding it to one side. By now, all the fighting in the clearing had stopped and all attention was focused on the two combatants.

This was the battle circle in its purest form. No one could stand to look away.

Norac Benz spat at Werd's feet and balled his hands into fists. "Let's dance, _demagolka_."

Werd charged forward with a roar. Norac slipped to the side, dodging the attack, and kneed the large alien hard in the chest. The hit sent Werd staggering back, coughing as he held his ribs.

"Come on, youngblood," Benz hissed. "I've seen better charges from a drunk at the _Oyu'baat_. Again!"

A twisted snarl of rage pulled at Werd's craggy features and he advanced again – this time at a more cautious pace. He sent out precise, measured punches at Norac's chest and arms, testing his defenses. The clanmaster easily turned away the blows, throwing in a few exploratory hits of his own. They were setting up their battle plan, sizing up their opponent. They began circling each other, while the Taung spectators chanted and hissed at the promise of blood.

Physically, Werd was the obvious superior: he was almost a whole head taller than Norac and his body was honed by a lifetime in the vicious world of the _Werda Kurs. _But Norac had years of experience bolstering his attacks, and was cunning in a way Werd had never encountered before. Vhetin found his heart pounding in his chest; whoever won this duel would decide the fate of everyone in the village.

Norac's men hooted and roared in favor of their clanmaster, but were swiftly silenced by the Heart-Eaters that held them captive. Vhetin watched as the two continued to trade cautious blows, very aware of the heat of the lightsaber blade hovering only inches from his throat.

Suddenly, Norac sprinted forward, leaping up and landing a powerful punch across Werd's jaw. The Taung staggered and the human followed up with another punch to the stomach, then two more to the ribs. Werd tried to counterattack with a backhand punch, but Norac ducked under the swinging fist and landed another punch along Werd's spine.

The dreadlocked Taung roared, limping away. He rounded on Benz again, eyes blazing. Vhetin saw fury written across his every movement, and he knew without a doubt that the Taung would not hesitate to kill Norac given the chance.

Werd advanced. But this time, when Norac tried to slip inside his defense again, Werd tucked his arms close to his chest and hit his opponent with a hard elbow to the face. Norac's head whipped back, hair flying, and he staggered away with his hands over his nose. Werd followed, fists clenched at his side. He grabbed Norac by the back of the neck and, with a powerful roar, threw the man bodily into the air.

Norac sailed like a child's rag doll before smashing face-first into the sacrificial pedestal. He groaned and slid off the damaged stone slab, blood pouring from his torn and bruised face. He staggered back to his feet only to meet Werd's oncoming fist. The blow knocked him flat and everyone watching – even the Taung – sucked in a shocked breath at the ferocity of Werd's attack.

Had this been Norac's plan? Rile his opponent up? Make him sloppy with rage? If so, the plan was working, but not to Norac's favor. Werd was all but shivering with pent-up hatred as he leaped up onto the sacrificial pedestal. He threw his head back and roared, pounding his chest.

Norac rolled onto his stomach and began crawling away, down off the pedestal. The Taung stared down at his prey with yellow eyes that glowed malevolently in the darkness. He hopped down from the stone pedestal and knelt at Norac's side. A single large hand closed around the back of the man's neck and he hauled Benz backward to hiss in his ear.

"_I sought peace between our people_," the Taung snarled. "_I offered you an open hand. And you saw that gift and spat in my face. In my _father's_ face!"_

With that, he shoved Norac forward again, driving the man's face hard against the ground. He yanked back and continued, "_You will find no mercy in my actions now, metal man. You will die for the crimes you have committed, even if I must consume your heart myself_."

He slammed Benz's face into the ground again. But when he pulled back, Norac was laughing.

Uncertainty flashed across Werd's features. Norac's face was covered in bruises and blood, but he was letting out a weak, wheezing chuckle.

"Savages…" he gasped. "Kriffing savages, the lot of you. I'm going to kill you and take your scalp for a trophy. S'no more than you deserve."

Then he twisted and Vhetin saw a thick rock clutched in his hand. There was a sharp _crack _as the stone collided with Werd's face, sending the Taung reeling. Benz quickly spun back to his feet, refusing to give his enemy a single moment to recover. He smashed the rock again and again against Werd's head, until red-black blood stained his fist and the stone clutched in it. Werd faltered under the attack, every blow driving him closer and closer to collapse.

Then, the young Mandalore suddenly let out a primal, animalistic roar and grabbed Norac around the waist. He arched his back and lifted the human off his feet. He threw Benz over his shoulder like a sack of grassgrain and Norac's head collided with the sacrificial pedestal with a sickly _crack._ Benz went limp and fell, while Werd's eyes rolled back in his head, the last of his strength exhausted.

Both shattered combatants collapsed into the mud, barely moving. Vhetin caught a glimpse of Jay struggling against her captor and snapping, "They're going to kill each other!"

Vhetin shook his head, unable to look away. "That's the point."

Benz, meanwhile, had begun a slow and torturous climb up the side of the sacrificial pedestal. He still had his rock clutched in one hand, but it slipped from his fingers as he pulled himself into a half-standing position. With a groan, he propped himself up against the pedestal, watching Werd weakly try to clamber to his feet, only to fall into the dirt again.

He gestured to the wounded Taung and turned to the captive Rangers. "See this?" he wheezed. "_This_ is your terrible _Kar'ta Epar'e!_ This filth has _no place_ among our people!"

He staggered, reaching over and pulling a dislodged slab of stone from the sacrificial pedestal. The heavy stone almost pulled him off his feet again, but he hauled it close to his chest and limped toward Werd.

Vhetin knew a stone that size would easily kill the Taung, no matter how tough Werd was. The other Heart-Eaters seemed to realize this as well; they called out to their leader or gasped in horror as they watched the proceedings. None dared interfere; the battle circle was a sacred rite. This fight was between Werd and Benz, and it would stay that way.

Blood was dribbling down Benz's chin in sticky ropes as he pulled the stone over his head. His arms shook from the effort, but a triumphant grin stretched across his bloody face. He stared down unsympathetically as Werd weakly tried to crawl away, out of the stone's reach. The Taung scrabbled in the mud, but could find no purchase.

"_Troan kyr'am jate," _Norac hissed, preparing for the final, fatal blow, "_aruetii hut'unn-_"

_POW!_

The sharp report of a blaster bolt shattered the shocked silence of the village. Several Taung screeched in surprise, while more than one human shouted. Vhetin's eyes felt as wide as dinner plates, fixed unwaveringly on Norac Benz.

The Berserker clanmaster had a strange, almost confused frown on his face. His arms shook and his fingers slackened. The heavy stone slipped from his grasp and thudded to the ground behind him. He looked down with wide eyes, his breath coming in short gasps.

A charred, smoking hole, the size of a small coin, was seared through his chest.

He let out a short choking gurgle, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. The front of his leather armor began to turn a dark red, spreading out from the ragged blaster wound. His eyes were wide with astonishment as he turned to see who had loosed the shot. Everyone in the clearing followed his confused, ice-blue gaze.

Vhonte Tervho stood a few paces away, smoke still wafting from the barrel of the blaster pistol clutched in her hands. Her eyes were as wide as Norac's, and her aim was shaking violently.

Benz's eyes filled with hurt and confusion, and he took a step toward her. His balance faltered and he staggered against the sacrificial pedestal. A bloody handprint was left behind as he pushed off of it.

"V-Vhonte?" he gasped. "Vhonte, what are you—"

_POW!_

A gurgle bubbled up from Norac's throat as the second shot ripped through his chest. His legs shook, then failed. He fell to his knees, arms limp at his side. Hurt, confusion, and betrayal blossomed in his gaze as he stared up at the red-haired captain standing in front of him.

Tervho's aim finally faltered, and the blaster clattered to the dirt at her feet. Her eyes were huge, and they never once left Norac's.

Benz didn't say anything. His expression said more than enough.

After a few endless, stunned moments, the Berserker clanmaster pitched sideways and collapsed to the ground. He didn't move again.

Vhetin's mind felt hazy, like everything he was seeing was somehow in a dream. He couldn't believe his eyes; he didn't even care when the assembled Taung roared in fury and descended on Captain Tervho. The rules of the battle circle had been breached; the sacred tradition was spoiled.

_"Blood!" _a nearby Taung screamed. "_We must have blood to complete the rites!"_

"_The metal men have broken the our laws yet again!" _another roared. "_They must pay for their heresies!_"

"_Take their hearts!"_

_"We must have their hearts!"_

Things seemed to move in slow motion. The Taung holding the lightsaber to Vhetin's throat drew the weapon back with a snarl, preparing for a slash that would take his head off at the shoulders. Over the alien's shoulder, he saw Jay being dragged off into the crowd, kicking and screaming. Tamai was being hauled to the sacrificial altar, her armor being stripped away by rough alien hands.

Before any fatal blow could fall, a powerful voice rang out over the chaos as clearly as the blaster bolts that had started it all.

"_Hold!"_

The Heart-Eaters froze. Vhetin slowly opened his eyes, barely aware that he had squeezed them shut in anticipation of the heated slash of the lightsaber.

Werd was standing once more, a single hand raised in the air. Blood stained the entire right side of his face and the eye on that side was bloodshot and hazy. He looked like he could barely hold himself upright, but he somehow managed.

He took several gasps for breath, one hand held against his bleeding side. Then he raised his chin and roared, "_Let the humans go_."

The Taung stared between themselves, uncertain. But when Werd barked, "_Now!"_ they hurried to obey their clanmaster. Vhetin was shoved away from his captors, his lightsaber pike thrust back into his grasp. He staggered forward onto his hands and knees. Jay followed a moment later, shoved into the muck at Werd's feet. Lee and Tamai were right behind her.

Soon, all the assembled Rangers had been placed before the mercy of _Mand'alor_ Werd. All were forced to kneel like waiting supplicants before a powerful lord. Benz was lying, unmoving, in the mud only a few feet away.

Werd's balance wobbled a bit, but he managed to stay standing. His breath was coming in short, pained gasps as he looked upon the rows of humans assembled before him.

"_You…"_ he hissed, "_have violated our most sacred rites. You have killed our brothers and sisters. You have murdered my father, the Mandalore. By all the ancient laws of my people, you deserve death for these crimes."_

He looked over the humans, his gaze resting on Vhonte Tervho – who was kneeling next to a limp and unresponsive Norac Benz. Her head was bowed and one of the Berserker's hands was clutched tightly in hers.

Werd's golden gaze softened. "_But…_" he continued, "_you have also shown great valor. You refused to be led like cattle to slaughter. You tamed the sacred Holy Serpents and bent them to your will. And most importantly, you sacrificed one of your own to save my life."_

He turned his gaze to his people, who were gathered around and staring with equal parts expectation and confusion. He gestured to the humans before him with a single, shaking hand.

_"These metal men have proven that they have the blood of the jungle flowing through their veins. They are devout warriors, strong of limb and stout of heart."_

He hesitated, breaking down into a short coughing fit before continuing. "_They speak our language. They fight_ _us with skill and determination. They wear our armor, defend their own, and heed the call of their own Mandalore_. _By all the tenets that have kept our people safe in this jungle, these metal men have shown themselves to be true Mandalorians!"_

A few discontented grumbles made their way through the Heart-Eater ranks, but otherwise there was silence at his words. Werd surveyed his people for a moment more before taking a deep breath and saying, "_By my right as Mandalore, I hereby decree that the metal men shall no longer be treated as enemies. No more will their hearts be claimed as trophies and their soldiers taken captive."_

He looked down to Vhonte Tervho again. "_You have proven yourself in my eyes, human. Know that from this day forth, the Mandalorians of the trees will seek only peace and cooperation with you and yours."_

Tervho's voice shook when she spoke, but her words were clear. "_You… you honor both our people and yours, Mandalore_."

Werd took a shaky step forward and held out an open palm. It was an obvious offer of peace.

Tervho stared at it for only a moment, then reached up and took his hand.

~~~~~~~~

**Outpost Aurek, the next day…**

Vhetin and Jay stood to one side, watching the repulsor sled carrying Norac Benz hover toward the waiting transport. A team of white-armored medics flanked either side of the sled, while hovering medical droids were already hard at work on their patient.

Jay watched them go with something close to worry in her eyes. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

Vhetin shook his head and shrugged. The procession passed them by close enough that he could see every blood-soaked bandage covering Benz’ chest. The man himself was unconscious — and had been since passing out in the Taung village. His hand twitched and feebly tried to bat away the prodding syringe of one of the medical droids, to no avail. Then he fell limp again, as still and unmoving as a corpse.

"I don't know,” Vhetin eventually said as the repulsor sled passed them by. “Captain Tervho missed all the vital organs, but both shots punched right through him. It's a miracle he's alive right now."

Jay turned away, folding her arms across her chest. "I don't envy the guy who's on shift when he wakes up. The phrase _royally pissed off_ isn't going to cover it."

Vhetin nodded to the troupe that was following the sled. "Seeing them, I can agree with you."

Benz's remaining Berserkers – around fifteen in all – were being led to the transport as well. But unlike their leader, they were being escorted by Rangers armed with blasters and their hands were cuffed in front of them by heavy electro-shock binders. Some among them looked furious, while others just stared at their boots with unreadable expressions.

"Don't you think the handcuffs are a bit much?"

Vhetin shook his head. "It's a luxury considering the gravity of what they've done. They disobeyed the direct order of their Mandalore and broke the laws of the Supercommando Codex in the process. That Shysa is letting them live is a pretty hefty show of kindness."

"Somehow I think things are only going to get worse for their clan when they all get back. Norac will probably wish he _had_ died back in that village."

Vhetin sighed, lacking the heart to verbally agree with her. The Berserkers had indeed overstepped their bounds in attacking the Taung forces, and Shysa had specifically told them that they were to pursue peaceful avenues of negotiation. He couldn't begin to imagine the _Mand'alor's _fury when he had read the post-mission report.

“The discovery of the Taung changes everything,” he eventually said, weighing each word carefully. “Not everyone will be overjoyed to see them return. Norac and the Berserkers broke the law, but I think more people will follow their lead before this is over.”

Jay’s face fell. “Then I hope they’re ready for the hornet’s nest they’re about to kick. If it comes to a fight, the Taung aren’t going to go down easy.”

“Then it’s our job to make sure it _doesn’t _come to a fight,” said a new voice from behind them.

The hunters turned to find a familiar blue-armored woman approaching, her armor scrubbed to a healthy sheen and a new, unsoiled poncho wrapped around her shoulders and neck. Tamai reached up and pulled away her helmet, clipping it to her belt as she drew even with them. Her hair was tied back in a neat, functional bun as opposed to the wild curtain it had been in when they’d found her in the jungle.

"Nice to see you two up and about," she said, nodding to both of them in greeting. Her face was clean of blood and mud for the first time in days, though she still sported dark, rough smears of makeup around her eyes. Knowing her, Vhetin assumed it was meant more as warpaint than any kind of cosmetic decoration.

"I’m honestly a little surprised to find you two out here,” the woman remarked. “You've had quite the intense weekend. I figured you’d both still be sleeping off the fun."

Jay rolled her eyes. "Trust me; work long enough with Cin and you get used to it."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Vhetin smiled behind his helmet, resting his hands on his hips. "Need I remind you that this whole thing was _your _idea?"

"The only reason we came down here was to rescue _your_ friend!"

Tamai snorted, glancing between them with a smile on her lips. "Aww, you two are so cute when you're arguing like an old married couple. But as much as I'd love to egg you on, I am here on business. Got a speech prepared and everything."

“A speech?” Vhetin said, a playful note lingering in his tone. “Did you stay up practicing just for us?”

Jay elbowed him hard in the ribs and shushed him. Tamai, meanwhile, straightened her back and raised her chin, adopting a more formal, military posture. Her tone was short, curt, and no-nonsense now, and she looked every bit the veteran Ranger she really was.

"Ranger-Commander Che'daje,” the woman said, “and her sister would like to formally thank you for your participation in the operations of the past few days. Your combined presence was an invaluable asset to the Rangers and to the people of the _Werda Kurs_. As such, the brass have seen fit to ensure that your efforts don’t go unrewarded."

She fished in a belt pouch for a moment, then drew out two small, rectangular pieces of metal. They glinted in the warm sunlight, and the Ranger insignia — an angular, segmented variation of the traditional Mandalorian _kyr’bes _— was emblazoned in silver across the front of each piece.

Tamai smiled as she held out her hand to them. "It gives me great pride to present you two with the Frontier Star, the highest award for valor and honor the Rangers can bestow upon outsiders. These badges mark you as friends of the Ranger Corps and allies of the frontiersmen of Mandalore."

Vhetin nodded and took one of the badges. Jay took the other, her eyes wide. As soon as the two had fastened them to their armor via the magnetic clamps on the back of the badges, Tamai snapped her fist to her chest in a sharp, military salute. Jay instantly mirrored the motion, her navy training instinctively kicking in, while Vhetin bowed his head in a more somber show of gratitude.

“_Kot bal ijaat,”_ Tamai said, holding the salute. “Strength and honor, now and always.”

The ceremony done, the woman quickly dropped the salute and let out an explosive breath. "I'm glad that's over with. I'm happy for you two, but I hate all that formal presentation _osik_."

“Right,” Jay said with a wry smile. “You’re more of a _jump out of the trees and decapitate giant snakes_ kind of girl?”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Tamai protested, leveling an accusatory finger at the huntress. “You’re just jealous because I look better on the back of a Basilisk.”

“Maybe.”

Vhetin chuckled as together, they turned back to watch the courtyard again. The procession of stun-cuffed Berserkers had finally ceased and the last of the disgraced warriors shuffled onto the waiting transport. The Rangers guarding them looked none too pleased either, brandishing their weapons and freely smacking their captives upside the head whenever the desire rose.

But the Berserkers and their gruff guards were followed by a far more interesting retinue bringing up the rear of the group, which drew attention from across the base almost immediately. Mandalorians and resident Imperials alike turned to stare in wonder at the newcomers who were making their way through Aurek's front gates. And the newcomers stared back with equal awe and fascination.

With slow, cautious strides, Werd'cetara strode into the courtyard as regally as his many wounds would allow him. He had abandoned the tattered Ranger flag his father had worn as a symbol of office and was instead dressed in a deep green cloak that draped over one shoulder. His jet-black hair hung in a loose, shining cascade down the center of his back, and he had two long _beskad _swords sheathed on his belt. His craggy face was pulled down in a customary scowl but his wide-eyed gaze betrayed how out of place he truly felt.

Trailing behind him was a diplomatic party of Taung warriors, hunched low as their eyes darted warily around the base. The usually fearsome-looking aliens now seemed terrified to be so far out of their element, but they obediently followed their leader deeper into the complex.

Ranger-Commander Che'daje and her sister met them with their own diplomatic team, who looked just as nervous to be around the _Kar’ta Epar’e_. Akh'shi came to a halt and nodded in greeting to the much taller Taung standing before her.

"Greetings, _Mand'alor _Werd'cetara," the Cathar warrior said. Her turbaned sister translated her words into _Mando'a_. "I believe I speak for all present when I say we are overjoyed to have found peace at long last."

Werd bowed his head, placing his flat palm against his chest in a sign of greeting. "_I greet you in honor, my friend. I hope that this newfound peace lasts many ages, and that songs will be sung of this meeting for eons to come_."

Tamai rested her hands on her hips and scoffed quietly to herself. "The big guy certainly has a way with words, doesn't he?"

"You have a problem with him? He is on our side, you know."

The blond woman shook her head with a sigh. "I'm glad for the peace talks. But the Heart-Eaters still killed my team. That grudge isn't going away any time soon. I don’t trust them, and I don’t think Uncle Fenn should either."

Vhetin hesitated, then put an arm around her shoulders. She didn't turn the gesture away. In fact, she leaned into it — but only just a little.

The Taung and the Ranger-Commander shook hands, then made their way deeper into the outpost. Vhetin knew that for all the pomp and procedure, this would be the beginning of long and drawn-out negotiations between the Taung and the Rangers. The two factions may be at peace now, but many Mandalorians had been killed by Werd's people and the events of the past few days had killed many of Werd's.

There were those on both sides who were still disgruntled at the idea of treating with their perceived enemies. Vhetin didn't envy the Ranger-Commander or Werd'cetara: both would have to work very hard to maintain the peace so many had fought and died for.

"It's going to be an interesting next few months around here," he said. "Sometimes I'm glad I live all the way up north in Keldabe. The city kind of seems boring in comparison."

"Ah, you get used to it," came a familiar man's voice from his shoulder. He looked over to find Lee at his side, arms folded as he watched the diplomatic emissaries pass. Somehow, the gray-armored man had managed to approach their group without catching notice. "Believe it or not, this is everyday work for us Rangers."

Jay laughed. "You guys discovered a previously extinct race of Mandalorians, secretly reprogrammed ancient war droids, then were kidnapped and nearly eaten. That’s seriously everyday work?"

The gray-armored Mando shrugged. "Well… maybe this time was a little special. But just a little."

"So what's in the cards for you?” Vhetin asked. “Somehow I doubt you'll be sitting in on the peace talks."

"_Shab _no," Lee scowled, as if the very idea was offensive. "You'd have to tie me to the chair to make me sit through all that political drivel. No, I'm going to be coordinating with the MandalMotors techs and working on the Lifespark Project from here on out. There are still plenty of old Basilisk carcasses in the jungle just waiting to be hauled back and switched on again."

He blinked, then added, "But don't tell anyone I told you that. The whole deal is supposed to be top secret. Ranger-Commander Akh'shi would flay me if she knew I was talking about it."

Jay frowned. "What? Why would the Basilisks be top secret?"

"Uh, because they’re super illegal and the Empire doesn't want us to have them?" Lee glanced at her. "You _did _see those things mow through an entire army of Taung in like thirty seconds flat, right?"

“Well…”

Tamai suddenly leaned closer and lowered her voice, drawing Vhetin’s attention away from the conversation at hand. "Hey, can I talk to you, Cin? In private, please?"

He frowned at her behind his helmet faceplate; there was a tense note to her voice that he didn't like, usually present only when she had something very important on her mind. What could possibly be wrong now?

But he didn’t argue, as he trusted her to not waste his time. So when she smiled and gestured for him to follow he did so without hesitation. Jay noticed their departure and stared after Vhetin with a raised eyebrow. He caught the motion in his helmet’s 360-degree view and glanced over his shoulder at her with a helpless shrug.

Jay frowned deeper when she saw the stony, determined look on Tamai’s face and looked to Lee for clarification. "You think everything is okay with them? Tamai seems… distracted."

The man's gaze softened at the sight of the two warriors departing together. He chuckled quietly, a knowing smile on his face. "Oh yeah. More than okay."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Oh you sweet, naive young woman." He grinned and put a hand around her shoulders, leading her off toward the mess hall. "I think it's about time someone sat you down for _The Talk_."

Jay rolled her eyes. "Oh no…"

"You see, when a mommy bounty hunter and a daddy bounty hunter love each other very much…"

~~~~~~~~

Vhetin's back collided with the wall, hard enough to shake the holographic lights mounted there. Tamai wasn't far behind, grabbing his helmet and ripping it from his head. It bounced away across the floor with a heavy _thud-thud-thud _and his world was suddenly flooded with hot, muggy jungle air.

He barely had time to blink against the wave of depressurization before she shoved him tighter against the wall and sealed their lips with a fiery kiss.

For a moment, he was too shocked to react. She had pounced on him as soon as they made it inside her private quarters, attacking him from behind before his helmet systems could blare a warning. Now she was tugging desperately at his flak vest, her hands swiftly and eagerly unlacing the armor up the sides.

He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back, not without difficulty. He held her at arms length and said, "Tamai, what do you think you're doing?"

She grinned at him, her hair falling wild over her face, giving her a messy, almost feral look. She shook it away, green eyes flashing. "What does it look like?"

"Tamai—"

"Remember that conversation we had before? You said you regretted us going our separate ways. And _I_ said we weren’t done talking about it."

Vhetin remembered, though it was hard to think straight when Tamai wriggled from his grip and kissed him again. His head collided hard with the wall as she pushed him back, abandoning his flak vest to bury her hands in his hair. He lost his train of thought at least two more times before he finally understood what she was getting at.

When she eventually pulled away to breathe, she panted, "I told you the conversation wasn't over and I meant it."

He hardly thought this counted as talking about it, and it _definitely _wasn’t how he’d expected her to react to the conversation. It wasn’t a necessarily unwelcome surprise, but…

"Tamai. Hold on.” He grabbed her hands, stopping her. "What is this?"

She let out a low, husky laugh and leaned close, her lips brushing against his ear. "I think you have some idea, Cin."

He shuddered against his better judgment at the tickle of her warm breath, but managed to push her back to arms length. When he spoke, his voice was a little more breathless than he would have liked. "You know what I’m talking about. Are you sure about what you’re doing?”

“Don’t try and second guess me, Cin.” She sighed, resting her forehead against the cool metal of his shoulder plate and taking a few calming breaths. "I’m not drunk and I’m not confused. I've just been thinking a lot these past few days. Or… well, as much as recent events have allowed. And I've decided—"

She let out a short breath, her words coming faster and faster as if she didn’t trust herself to stop and think about what she was saying. She was blushing furiously, so deep she was almost as red as a korra fruit.

"I want to give it a second chance,” she blurted out. “Give _us _a second chance. I know we didn’t part on the best of terms last time, but I care about you. And I know you care about me."

“I do care about you. But I’m not sure this is smart. We broke up for a good reason.”

She sighed and her face fell. “Because I didn’t trust you?”

“Because we live different lives. You belong here, with the Rangers. And I’m almost always away on hunting contracts and stirring up trouble off world. Neither of us seem fully suited for something like this.”

Her face suddenly fell. “I-I know this seems fast, but… down here you don’t really have time to take things slow. The past few days only helped me realize that I need to grab the things I care about while I still can. Before they vanish forever. Like you almost did.”

He had to grant her that one. Hard not to come to that conclusion after the battle in the Taung village. They had all come so close to losing everything…

“If you think it’s a bad idea,” she continued, still refusing to meet his gaze, “just say so. We can go our separate ways. You can get back on your ship, go back to Keldabe, and… and it’ll be just like it was before all this craziness. We can just be friends. Good friends, I hope.”

He didn't know what to say. He couldn't deny that he wanted this, that he wanted _her_. For the first time in a long time he found himself thinking of someone other than Brianna, and that fact didn’t make him clam up and shut down. Tamai was special. She was a warrior just like him, and they understood each other in a way few others did.

He was intrigued to see what might come next for them both – and he wasn't thinking just about the sex.

"All right,” his mouth formed the words seemingly without instruction. “Let's do this."

She looked up sharply, hope blooming in her eyes. She quickly tamped it down and instead shot him a wicked smile, hiding her nervousness behind a facade of playful ribbing. "As in, _let's be a couple_? Or _let's get naked and slot each other on the table?"_

“Stop talking.” He silenced her with a kiss.

She laughed against his lips and pulled him close again, throwing her arms around his shoulders. After far too short a time, she maneuvered him around so her back was now against the wall. Then she shoved his chest with all her strength. He staggered back against a durasteel table bolted into the floor nearby, knocking most of the table's contents onto the ground as he crashed against it. He wasn't given a reprieve; she pounced, driving them both back onto the table. She climbed on top of him, her hands resting against his chest plates.

"If I'd known this is what you intended," he breathed as she began working at his flak vest again, "I probably would have taken on that whole village of Taung myself. I could have saved us at least two hours of fighting."

She scoffed as she yanked away his flak vest and unzipped the flight suit underneath. "In your dreams, Stripes. You’re good, but you’re not _that _good."

She kissed him again and this time he returned it with equal passion. There was a strange familiarity in the action, though it had been years since they had been together. Now he felt it all rushing back to him; the smell of her hair, the taste of her lips, the feel of her armor jabbing painfully into his hip—

He grimaced and pulled away, trying to shift his position. "Um, Tamai?"

She glanced down at her belt. Her fearsome passion ebbed a little, giving way to a sheepish blush as she reached down and drew her _beskad_ from its sheath. The blade scraped free and glinted in the room's dim lighting.

"Sorry," she apologized as she tossed the sword aside. It clattered loudly to the ground. "I guess I wasn't as prepared for this as I thought. I'm not really the romantic type."

"I never would have guessed." He chuckled and began helping her unlace her own flak vest. Once done, she pulled it over her head and began unbuckling her belt. She tossed the heavy utility belt to one side and it thudded to the floor next to her _beskad_. She then unzipped her flight suit and pulled it down her shoulders. Several more layers followed after that, until the floor was littered with armor from both warriors. Mandalorian gear was stifling when it came to moments of passion, and neither of them could shed their armor quickly enough.

"Next time," he managed to get out in between her kisses, "I expect a trail of rose petals leading to the bedroom, Miss Vasser. Ooh, and candles. Don't forget candles."

"Next time?" Tamai laughed as she reached back and worked to yank off his boots. "The man barely has me half-undressed and he's already making plans for next time! Why don't you put that brain of yours to work thinking of ways to make _this time _special?"

"What, a romantic tryst with an amnesiac alien isn't good enough for you?" He suddenly surged forward, rolling her onto her back and switching their positions. Her hands flashed up to land at his waist. She laughed breathlessly and her hands slipped up his torso to wrap around his shoulders.

“I don’t know.” She pulled him closer, a gentle smile curving her lips. “Why don't we find out?"

Few words were spoken after that.

~~~~~~~~

**The next morning**

He had his back to her. The light filtering in through her drawn window shades was casting bar-like shadows across the pale adornment of scars that crisscrossed his bare torso. She watched him from the bed, chin propped on her palm with a small smile on her face.

He was inspecting his equipment, dressed only from the waist down. His armor and weapons were spread out across the table in front of him, all bloodstained, burnt, or otherwise battle-scarred. With a small sigh he picked up his gauntlet, reached inside the housing, and triggered the arm-length gauntlet blade. The weapon slid free with a scrape, the blade stained black with alien blood. He grabbed a cloth rag and set himself to cleaning it.

She smiled a little wider as she watched him work. Even given everything that had happened lately — the good and the bad — he possessed a powerful, near-impenetrable sense of focus she had always admired. If only more people could so easily turn their minds from misfortune.

She finally spoke up. "I have one of those, you know."

"I know you do," he replied. "Though your kit could use some good, old-fashioned MandalMotors work to clean it up. It's worth the money, and I'm sure Janada would be more than happy to help out. You two always got along like a house on fire."

"What's wrong with my gauntlet blade?"

He gestured to her own armor piece, lying hastily discarded on the floor next to her bed. "It's too unstable. The sheath doesn't have a proper foundational support along the side of your arm. One of these days you're going to trigger it and it's going to come flying right out of its housing."

She let out a low whistle. "Janada's been honing your engineering skills, I see."

"Side-effect of being a bounty hunter, actually," he said, finishing up his ministrations with his own gauntlet blade. "I was paranoid. Got tired of sending my kit in for repair and not knowing what she was doing to it."

She laughed and sat back against her pillows, linking her hands behind her head and listening to him tinker with his equipment. Her gaze wandered lazily up to stare at the ceiling, watching the trees outside her window cast quivering shadows along the rough duracrete surface.

It had been… _nice_, waking up to find him lying in bed next to her. It had left a warm feeling in her heart that had yet to dissipate. She hoped it never did.

"So," she eventually said, "do you have another contract lined up when you get back?"

He shook his head, the motion twisting and puckering the livid white scar that stretched across the back of his neck. "I think I'm going to take it easy for a few weeks. The reward money from this job will hold for more than enough time to get something together. Besides…"

She glanced at him, noticing the way he was fidgeting with the tip of his gauntlet blade, running the sharp edge along the pad of his thumb. He cleared his throat and continued, "…I was hoping to spend a little more time with you."

The words were sweet, but they made Tamai's heart sink a little. She rolled over again and sighed, "Cin…"

"I know, I know. Silly of me…"

"You know I can't leave. My job here is too important to just walk away."

He nodded silently and returned to work on his gauntlet blade. She watched him in silence for a bit before cautiously trying to lighten the mood. "Besides, what would a frontier girl like me get up to in the big city? I need _trees,_ Cin, or I’ll be impossible to live with."

He didn't answer, fidgeting with his gauntlet. She could easily see how much he wanted her to come back with him. _She_ wanted to go back with him too; she didn't want to so quickly toss away what they had built together. But her responsibilities with the Rangers came before personal gain, no matter how painful it was. The people here needed her more than he did.

"Well, you're always welcome up north," he finally said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between them. His voice was calm and unnaturally level; sure signs he was trying to cover up how disappointed he really was. "I know Janada would love to see you one of these days."

“Maybe… maybe I will. It’d be nice to see her and the rest of the old gang again.”

He grunted and said no more. The silence of the room was interrupted only by the gentle scraping of Vhetin’s rag against the dried, encrusted blood on his gauntlet blade. Tamai frowned, unsettled by the sudden awkwardness that had fallen between them.

_We didn’t come this far just to have everything end on a sour note_, she thought. _There must be some way to patch this up. Make this work._

An idea suddenly came to mind and her eyes lit up. "Hey, wait! I have an idea."

He glanced over his shoulder at her, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "Oh?"

She sat up in bed, pulling the sheets up to cover herself. "Werd and the Taung delegation are going north to Keldabe in a few weeks right? Something about a meeting with Uncle Fenn?"

He nodded and turned around, leaning against the table. "Shysa wants an official diplomatic meeting. _Mand'alor_ to _Mand'alor_."

"Well, I tell you what," she said, flashing him a smile. "I'll come up to visit for a while with them."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Ever since the Caranthyr bombings, the Rangers have been traveling to Keldabe for counterterrorism training. Lee and I were supposed to take part, but we were reassigned at the last minute to the _Werda Kurs _posting months ago."

She cocked her head. "I still have to do the training. And I can't think of a better time to get it done."

He stared at her, obviously grateful. "You're sure?"

"Come on, _cyar'ika_," she said, settling herself back against the covers. "Stop trying to second guess me. Just make sure your bastion is ready for human habitation. I don't want to walk through the front doors and see a half-inch layer of dust on everything like last time, okay?"

He finally grinned. "It's a date."

~~~~~~~~

**Later…**

Ranger-Commander Che'daje and her sister were standing on the landing pad, seeing off the freelancers and the rare few Berserkers who had not been arrested. Jay was standing next to Captain Tervho, deep in conversation with the two Cathar warriors.

"So what will you do now?" Captain Tervho inquired. She tucked her thumbs into her belt and cocked her helmeted head. "With the Taung pacified, the Rangers won't have much of a challenge in the jungle anymore."

"Trust me," Hish'ka Che'daje said, narrowing her golden eyes behind the slit in her turban, "there's always a new challenge lurking in these trees."

Ranger-Commander Akh'shi nodded. "Word from the locals is that the Kelborns are unhappy with the new peace talks. Someone has to go calm them down before they go on the warpath. That's our newest job."

"And the Lifespark prototypes?"

The Ranger-Commander's expression was grim. "Officially, there is no such thing. And if any of you say otherwise… well, I probably don't have to tell you the severity of the consequences."

"Our lips are sealed, Ranger-Commander," Jay acknowledged. "I promise."

"What about unofficially?" Tervho pressed. "Those prototypes are dangerous. What does Shysa have planned for them?"

"Our orders are to continue recovering the Basilisk corpses for repair and reactivation," Akh'shi said. "And our most talented Rangers will be trained to command and ride them. As it stands, Ranger Lee is one of the more promising riders."

Jay grinned. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

Tervho was not so amused. "But why does Shysa want this project in the first place? We've survived without Basilisks for the past two thousand years. Why reactivate them now?"

“My jurisdiction ends where the jungle does, Captain Tervho.” The Ranger-Commander shrugged. "It's not my place to stick my nose in the affairs of state."

'If you could speculate, though,” Tervho was almost relentless in her questioning. “Why do you think he's doing this? Why would Shysa risk breaking Imperial law to reactivate these relics?"

"Off the record?" Akh'shi glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "He’s scared of something. Something big. Something dangerous enough to make him disobey the Empire."

Jay frowned. "What would be a bigger threat than the Empire?"

Hish'ka laughed, her voice muffled by her dark turban. "That's the winning question, isn't it?"

The Ranger-Commander was obviously done talking. She thumped her fist against her chest plate and bowed her head. "It's been an honor serving with you both. You are a testament to your respective peoples."

Her sister mirrored the motion, bowing at the neck. "May your enemies be numerous, and skilled enough to keep you strong."

"Thank you both.” Tervho bowed as well. “I wish you the best in the future. Hunt well."

Jay nodded and shook hands with the two warriors. The transport pilot stuck his head out of the ship's door and shouted that liftoff was in five minutes. Tervho headed for the transport, no doubt to keep the remaining Berserkers – unhappy at the events that had transpired in the jungle – from causing too much trouble. But there was still one figure that was strangely absent from the scene.

_Where's Vhetin?_ she thought, craning her neck around. Sneaky as he was, she thought he’d have met up with her by now.

It wasn't difficult to find him; he was just at the edge of the landing pad, giving Tamai one last hug before departure. The two held each other tightly, as if neither wanted to let go. Their foreheads were pressed together in an intimate _kov'nyn_ or Keldabe Kiss – the only show of affection two fully armored Mandalorians could manage. They were speaking, but the words were lost in the cacophony of the base and the equally loud chaos of the jungle just outside Aurek’s walls.

Jay let the two have their moment, hanging back with her hands behind her back. They had only just found each other, and she knew both must be hesitant to separate again. But after a short time they finally pulled apart, still holding hands. Over the roar of the starship's engines powering up, she heard Vhetin call, "Don't you dare go missing on me again, Vasser. I might not be around to rescue you a second time."

She laughed. "If I remember correctly, _I _saved _you_. Something about a giant river snake that was about to eat you for lunch?"

"Details, details," he said. His tone grew more serious. "I'll see you in a few weeks?"

"You can count on it, Stripes. Keep the lights on for me up at the bastion. We still have a lot of catching up to do."

He laughed, prompting her to shove playfully against his chest plates. "I'm serious,” she said. “Get your mind out of the gutter and get on that ship before they leave you behind."

He nodded and turned to leave, giving her one last _kov’nyn_ before they parted for good. As the black armored Mando made his way up the ramp to the landing pad, Tamai waved to Jay and called, "It was nice meeting you, _aruetii! K'oyacyi!"_

Jay waved back. "You too!"

Then she and Vhetin boarded the transport together, leaving Aurek behind. They settled into their assigned seats and buckled in for the long ride back to Keldabe. Next to them, the door slid shut with a resounding _boom_, cutting Tamai from sight. Seconds later the ship began to rumble as they took to the sky.

Jay glanced over at her partner with a knowing grin. He was staring down at his gloved hands, clenching and unclenching them slowly like he did whenever he was distracted. She nudged him in the ribs as the deck bucked beneath their feet.

"So I heard you and Tamai have been busy lately."

She could almost see his blush even through his armor. "You're nosier than usual."

She laughed and sat back against her seat. "I'm happy for you, more than anything. Tamai's a good woman. I think you two work well together."

"Thank you. I like to think so too."

She didn't bother noting that Brianna would certainly not be happy to learn of this development. Jay was sure the last thing Vhetin wanted to think about was his tumultuous relationship with his ex. Better to focus on the good things now than the bad that would inevitably come.

"Oh," she suddenly said, reaching down to her belt. "I almost forgot to give this back to you."

She unclipped her borrowed lightsaber from her belt and held it out to him, hilt first. "Thanks for loaning me this. It came in handy during the fight in the village."

He waved it away. "Keep it."

"What?” she blinked, uncomprehending. “You're _serious_?"

He nodded. "You demonstrated good skill with it during the battle. I think you've shown you can safely use it. So keep it. It might come in handy later."

She stared at the polished cylinder of reflective black metal resting in her palm. Her heart thrilled with excitement at the prospect of carrying such a lethal and iconic weapon on her person. There were criminals out there who would run at the mere _sight _of the thing!

With a grin, she clipped it back to her belt. "_Ori’vor’e_," she said. "Huge thanks. Do you think I could change the color of the blade when we get back to Keldabe?"

"It won't be cheap," he said, "but I know some people. What color were you thinking?"

“I’ve always been partial to purple. Jedi Master Windu rocked a purple lightsaber back in the day, you know.”

He nodded. “I think I can make that happen. Think of it as an early birthday present.”

"Awesome," she said with sincerity. Then she settled back against her seat, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. "Wake me when we get back to Keldabe, would you?"

"Deal. And Jay?"

She opened one eye. "Hmm?"

He had finally looked up to meet her gaze. "Great job out there. Once again, you've surpassed all my expectations for you. It's a nice habit you've developed."

She smiled, then reached over and thumped her fist against his chest plates in a sign of gratitude. "Thanks. You weren't too shabby yourself. And you got the girl in the end, so you technically came out better than anyone else."

He shifted in his seat, staring absently down at his hands once more.

"Yeah," he murmured, almost too quiet to hear. She could sense the smile in his voice. "Yeah, I guess I did."


	19. New Friends and Old Enemies (FINALE)

**Jay's Apartment, Keldabe, two weeks later…**

Jay was curled up comfortably on the couch, Denton's arm around her shoulders as they both settled in for the evening HoloNet broadcasts. The news was first, and a very familiar story was airing. On the screen, an attractive Mirialan woman was reporting on the Taung delegation that had just arrived in the city from the _Werda Kurs _Ranger outposts.

"_The leader of the Jungle Clans, Werd'cetara Ca'burcyan, appeared with Mandalore Fenn Shysa today,_" the reporter was saying, "_and delivered an inspiring message of peaceful cooperation between his ancient people and their more modern counterparts."_

The image cut to video of the press conference that had taken place that afternoon. A crowd of spectators gathered around a platform where Werd, Shysa, Tobbi Dala, and other Mandalorian political figures were gathered. Holocams flashed like strobe lights, and the Taung winced at all the commotion. He otherwise looked undisturbed, though Jay could only imagine how confusing modern life must have seemed for him.

Since his arrival, Werd had been given a brand new set of MandalMotors' finest armor, polished to a healthy sheen and colored a deep green, as a gift of friendship. Draped across one shoulder was a heavy black cloak – a symbol of his stature as leader of the Jungle Clans – and he had his old, rough-hewn _beskad_ sheathed on his belt. His hands were linked behind his back, his chin raised regally as he spoke to the crowd.

He spoke in _Mando'a_ as usual, though the news channel thankfully added subtitles for the benefit of the foreigners watching the broadcast.

"_Your world," _the Taung rumbled, "_is a most unfamiliar place to me. Though I have been told that my people are your cultural ancestors, many among the Jungle Clans have lost touch with this shared past. They have given in to savagery and superstition. But I am confident that with time and patience – and the cooperation of both my people and yours – we can come to a lasting peace that will be of benefit to all."_

A resounding cheer went up at his words. Mandalorians everywhere were jubilant at the news that their ancestor race was not actually extinct. It was cause for celebration across the planet: the beings that had founded their culture were alive and well, still living among them! Jay could only imagine what it must be like.

On the screen, Shysa now stepped forward. He was holding a wrapped object in his hands, cradling it like a newborn child.

"_The revelation of the Taung's survival,"_ the _Mand'alor_ said, his voice carrying across the crowd, "_is joyous news to our people. Yet what little history we share is already mired in blood an' death. That cannot stand. We are brothers and sisters! _Vode an!_ An' we must come to realize that, now more than ever."_

He turned to Werd amid roaring cheers from the crowd. He stepped toward the alien, who still managed to tower over his lanky frame. Shysa bowed his head in respect and held out the bundle in his hands.

"_Let this gift be the first of many signs of cooperation between our great peoples_."

Werd narrowed his eyes, but slowly took the bundle from Shysa's hands. Unwrapping it with tender, cautious movements, he widened his eyes when he saw just what the Mandalore had given him. He let the wrappings fall to the stage at his feet and raised the gift into the air.

Cradled between his hands was a battle mask, styled like those of the old Neo-Crusaders. It was an ovular, convex plate of metal that sported the iconic Mandalorian T-visor. Painted in white across the helmet forehead was the fearsome Jaig eyes that had adorned Werd's old armor.

The Taung warrior's voice was so quiet, the holocam receptors could barely pick it up.

"_You honor me, great _Mand'alor_,"_ he murmured.

Shysa's voice was similarly quiet. "_You honor yourself. When all your brothers an' sisters were butcherin' mine, you were one of the few to press for peace._"

He saluted Werd, snapping his fist to his chest and bowing his head. "_You showed bravery, fortitude, an'conviction in your decisions; all trademarks of a true _Mando'ad_."_

Werd slowly brought the mask to his face. The holocams picked up a hiss of air as it pressure sealed over the craggy edges of his head, joining with the synthleather cowl he now wore. Within moments he was transformed, looking like a Neo-Crusader newly risen from the grave.

"_With this gift,"_ the Taung called, raising a single fist, "_I promise to forge a lasting alliance between our great peoples, to the benefit of all!"_

Another cheer, louder than any before. Werd seemed to revel in it, throwing his head back and roaring, "_Kote par Manda'yaim! Glory for Mandalore!"_

The crowd echoed his words and he roared again. "_Kote par an! Glory for all!"_

Next to her, Denton chuckled. "Well, the big guy certainly makes for dramatic viewing. Fifty credits says he's offered a movie deal before this is over."

Jay laughed and snuggled closer. "I'll take that action."

The crowd again mirrored Werd's cry before the broadcast cut back to the reporter. She folded her green-skinned hands with a practiced brush of her hair and continued her story.

"_The jubilation of the Taung's reappearance was not shared by some. The controversial Mandalorian isolationist and cult leader, Norac Benz, was released from the medcenter today. And while he gave no comment as to the events that transpired in the jungle, sources have revealed that he was implicated in a plot to kill the Taung and sabotage the peace talks in retaliation for Taung violence against Ranger forces."_

The reporter paused a moment before continuing, and a picture of a very angry-looking Norac Benz appeared over her shoulder. "_It is unclear at this time whether_ _Taung would be considered legal citizens under the tenets of the Supercommando Codex, and currently a council of experts has convened to amend the Codex in light of this new discovery. If the amendment is passed and the Taung are protected under the Codex's rules, Benz and his followers could face exile or execution for murdering fellow Mandalorians."_

Jay gasped quietly. "What? They wouldn't do that, would they?"

Denton shrugged. "It's possible. The Codex is very clear: Mandos don't kill other Mandos. The Death Watch uprisings proved how desperately we need people to follow that law."

"But… I mean, I'm not agreeing with what he did," she said, choosing her words carefully, "but he was only trying to do what he thought was best for his people. He was avenging the Rangers who had been kidnapped and killed!"

"With all the celebration at the Taung's return," Denton said, "I don't think many people are going to see it that way."

Jay sighed and settled herself against his chest again. She frowned, still disturbed at the thought of such a severe punishment. Benz had acted rashly, violently, and irresponsibly, but he didn't deserve death_._

_Personally_, she thought, _getting shot twice by your best friend is more than enough punishment. It was easy to see how much Tervho hurt him – physically and otherwise._

She shook her head sadly and turned her attention back to the holo screen. The news anchor was continuing with her report.

"_Norac Benz's punishment thus far_," the Mirialan continued, "_has been_ _noticeably severe already. In a special worldwide announcement, Mandalore Shysa announced that Benz and his Berserkers have lost their seat on the Council of Clans, and have been stripped of all citizenship rights until further notice. The Berserkers will face individual charges that will be tailored to their respective roles in disobeying the Mandalore's orders for peace."_

The reporter folded her hands with a neutral smile. "_More on this story as it develops."_

The program switched to ads, and Jay instantly tuned out. She frowned, staring off into space as she murmured, "So what does that mean? What happens when a Mandalorian is stripped of citizenship?"

"It's not pretty," Denton said. "The entire clan has been blacklisted. It's only a half-step up from being declared _dar'manda_; Benz and his people are still Mandos, but only barely. Right now, their names have been marked with dishonor. They'll have to prove themselves to the _Mand'alor_ and their people to regain the respect they lost."

"And if they fail?"

"Then they'll live and die in dishonor, outcasts of society." He grimaced. "There have been clans who have gone generations before gaining their honor back. It's not a light punishment."

Jay shook her head. "I can only imagine how pissed Benz must be right now."

"He'll keep his temper in check if he knows what's good for him," Denton assured her. "I don't think his clan can afford any more trouble."

Jay sighed, staring at the holo screen. A sinking feeling had settled over her heart. Shysa may have made a terrible mistake; Benz was useful, but only as long as he was allied with the Mandalorians. In treating him so harshly, Shysa may have driven the Berserkers into the arms of someone far worse.

Denton nudged her shoulder. "Hey, cheer up. Now that the Taung are pushing for peace, things'll only get better from here. You'll see."

Jay wasn't so convinced. She just turned her attention back to the screen and murmured, "I hope you're right."

~~~~~~~~

**Keldabe City Spaceport**

"You are fidgeting."

Vhetin hadn't realized he was bouncing nervously up and down on the balls of his feet. He quickly stilled and hooked his arms behind his back, waiting for the blinking landing lights of the transport to come into sight.

"You are still fidgeting."

He sighed. "All right, so I'm a little nervous. Is that such a crime?"

The Handmaiden, standing at his shoulder, flashed a rare smile. "No. If anything it is… refreshing."

"Oh?"

"For once, you are not solely focused on death, destruction, and mayhem. It is pleasing to see."

He scoffed. "Don't the Echani believe life revolves around conflict?"

"We do. But one cannot live with conflict without also living with peace. Just as there can be no light without dark, no winter without summer, so can there be no true understanding of war without an equal understanding of harmony."

She raised an eyebrow. "Or did you believe my meditation exercises were only for show?"

"Well…"

She sighed, mirroring his posture and linking her arms behind her back. "Everything in the world must be put into balance. The snows inevitably retreat in spring to give way to fresh life. Then, the cycle begins anew and the snows return. A warrior must observe this cycle in her own life and know what to do when conflict likewise retreats to give way to new life."

He was still bouncing on his heels, eyes fixed on the sky. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You are not listening to a single word, are you?"

"Not a one."

She sighed and tugged her helmet more securely over her eyes. "_Mandalorians_…"

They waited in silence with a small crowd of others waiting for friends or relatives on the transport. After some milling about, Vhetin glanced over at her. "So why exactly did you decide to come with me? You do realize this woman is a Mando just like I am?"

"I am aware," the Echani replied evenly. "I was simply interested to meet one of these so-called Rangers. I have heard tales of their exploits. I was… impressed."

"Oh? I never thought I'd see the day you were impressed by a Mandalorian."

"These Rangers live in the wildest, most untamed areas of the planet," the Handmaiden said. "They live the purest existence one may find in their lifetime; an existence in which every moment is a fight for simple survival."

She shrugged. "It reminded me of life on my own homeworld. My curiosity was piqued, therefore I am here."

"If you say so," he said. "Just don't expect her to share your beliefs. I don't know if she has any beef with Echani, but she may not react well to your superiority complex."

The barb was only half-sincere, and the Handmaiden responded in kind. "You mistake my disdain for _you_ as a disdain for all your kind. The Mandalorian Warriors I despise are brutes: the mercenaries, the sellswords, the bounty hunters. If what you tell me of her is accurate, this woman is a true warrior."

She smiled smugly, to herself more than anyone else. "She may be more worthy of my respect than anyone on this planet."

He snorted. "Try to keep that in mind when you meet her. Best behavior, yeah?"

"Do you believe me to be some child?"

"No, I believe you to be a strong-willed woman with an arrogant streak a parsec wide. So try to keep that arrogance in check, at least as long as you can manage. As a personal favor to me?"

The Handmaiden opened her mouth to argue, but quickly realized it was pointless. She had neither the time nor the motivation to argue with him further. So she folded her arms across her chest and muttered, "Very well."

"Thank you," he said sincerely. Then he turned his gaze back to the night sky, waiting for the blinking lights of the transport. His heart leaped into his throat as the ship finally came into sight, coasting low over the city with a rumble.

His hands were balled into fists, body tense with anticipation as the ship glided over the landing bay and began its descent. Heavy landing struts slid from the ship's housing, hitting the bay floor with a deep _boom_. Coolant hissed out from the ship as it powered down, the exit ramp sliding open to release the passengers.

Vhetin's eyes raked over the small crowd of people that were disembarking. There were Mandos and _aruetiise_, humans and aliens, and all manner of others. Most passed him by without a second look, eager to get to their destinations.

Then he saw her. She came striding down the ramp, dressed in a leather jacket and baggy work pants. A heavy rucksack – no doubt containing her armor – was thrown over one shoulder. Her blond hair was tied into a tight braid that hung down her back.

She quickly caught sight of Vhetin and her face broke into a beautiful smile. Her pace increased as she made her way toward them and she dropped the rucksack to the ground as soon as she was close enough. She threw her arms around his shoulders and he hugged her close, an unstoppable smile plastered across his face.

"Welcome home," he murmured.

~~~~~~~~

**_Haran'tracinya_ tapcaf, Keldabe**

Norac Benz nursed a hefty mug of ale between his hands, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. His face – just now beginning to heal from the beating he'd received – was pulled into a dark and dangerous scowl.

The holovid player was running in the background, tuned to one of the many HoloNet news stations reporting the Taung delegation that had arrived for the peace talks. This reporter, however, seemed far more interested in Benz's clan.

"_The Berserkers,"_ the reporter was saying, "_have been officially reprimanded by _Mand'alor_ Shysa and punished for their part in complicating the peace talks. Reports indicate that Shysa has stripped the clan of all citizenship rights and placed all members on probationary watch."_

Another reporter took over. "_Many_ _have reacted with anger at this news, claiming that while the Berserkers have faced a great fall in honor, the punishment was too light. One noted clanmaster was quoted saying, 'If it were any other clan, they would have been executed like the Codex orders. Why the Berserkers are so bloody important is beyond me.'"_

Benz sneered and gestured to the bartender. "Reten! Turn that shit off."

"Norac—"

"_Now!"_

The tender sighed and switched off the screen. Some of the tapcaf's patrons groaned or cursed at Benz. None had the guts to stand up to him. He sneered deeper and hunched over his drink again.

_Kriffing Shysa and his kriffing rules._ He'd only ever done what he thought was best for his people. The _Kar'ta Epar'e _were a threat, regardless of their status as Mandalore's ancestor race. They had murdered Mandalorians, butchered and eaten them like some kind of cattle.

If Shysa truly wanted to follow the Codex, he should order the dishonor and death of that bastard Werd and his people. It was the only way to ensure no more Mandos were hurt.

He scowled even deeper and took a long swig from his mug. He drained the glass in a few deep gulps, then slammed it back down against the bar. "Reten! Another."

The bartender glared at him, but reluctantly gave him a refill. He chugged it down in a similar fashion and demanded, "Another!"

Another came with another glare. Benz ignored it.

"Bad day at work?"

He glanced over to see a woman sliding into the seat next to him. Her armor was battered and scarred, painted matte orange and yellow. She pulled her helmet off and set it on the bar next to her, revealing a gaunt, scarred face and brown hair shot through with streaks of gray.

He took one look at her and cursed under his breath. _Of all the kriffing luck…_

"What do you want, Reau?" he snarled.

"Whatever you're drinking, for starters," the woman said. The bartender nodded and poured her a mug of ale. She kicked it back and grimaced, wiping her mouth with the back of one hand. "Strong stuff. But after the past few weeks you've been having, I guess you've earned it."

He sneered at her. "Did you come here just to poke fun at me? If so, you can either walk out through the door or watch as I throw you out."

"You can try," said another woman's voice from his opposite side. The voice was tight and controlled, filtered through the vocoder of a helmet. He turned to see a woman in dark red armor taking a seat on his other side. "But then you'd have me to worry about."

The new woman's armor wasn't traditional Mando gear. Instead of a full helmet she wore an engraved _beskar_ face mask. A tattered scarlet cape hung from her shoulders and a tight cowl was pulled over her head. Leaning against the bar next to her was an angular battle spear.

His lip curled. "Do I know you?"

"Sola'or Kelborn." She didn't offer him a hand. "_Clanmaster _Sola'or Kelborn."

"And what brings you so far north? Last I heard, you had run back to lick your wounds when you learned the Rangers had taken care of the Taung in your forest."

Kelborn said nothing. She just stared at him through her mask's T-visor.

Reau called his attention back to her. "Not all of us are happy with the outcome of the events in the jungle. Clanmaster Kelborn was in the process of gathering a hunting party together to take the fight to the Taung. As it turns out, the Rangers beat her to it and made peace before she could avenge the fallen members of her clan."

Kelborn finally spoke. "Twenty of my people were taken by those beasts. Shysa's peace treaties rob their spirits of vengeance and dishonor us all."

'You're preaching to the choir, sister," Benz growled, gesturing for another refill.

"That's why we're here," Reau said. "I've seen the reports from the Rangers, and they don't add up."

"Don't they?"

Reau scowled at him. "Stop playing games, Norac. We both know how dangerous the _Kar'ta Epar'e_ were. But the reports say that Captain Tervho managed to beat an entire village of them back with just a small task force of Rangers. That's just not possible."

Benz shrugged. "That's what the reports say. Who am I to argue?"

Reau leaned closer and hissed, "What _really_ happened down there in the jungle? What is Shysa leaving out?"

He sighed and turned to her. "And just what makes you think I want to talk to you about anything? Just leave me to drink in peace."

"Who are you trying to protect, Benz?" Reau demanded. "The _Mand'alor_ who stripped you and your clan of your status? The Rangers who betrayed you and undermined your drive for vengeance? Or the _beroya _who put two blaster bolts in your chest and left you for dead?"

Benz's eyes narrowed. "Don't talk about her."

"You're lower than you've ever been," Reau relentlessly pressed. "You tried to do what was best for them and you ended up at the bottom of the food chain because of it. Why should you give a single _osik_ about them now?"

He turned and moved away from the bar with a grunt of, "This conversation is over."

"I could offer you a way out."

He froze in his tracks, his hand halfway outstretched toward the door leading to the street. It fell back to his side and he slowly turned to face her. She was smiling smugly, while Clanmaster Kelborn just regarded him with that expressionless masked gaze.

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you proposing?"

Reau held his gaze. "A full alliance between my clan and yours. All the dishonor in the galaxy wouldn't be able to hold you back then. With the support of the Reau-Viszla – not to mention our Kelborn allies – you could easily demand that your honor and citizenship rights be returned to you. Shysa would be a fool to deny you with so many people behind you."

"And what would you get out of it?"

"The loyalty of you and your Berserkers, of course," Reau said matter-of-factly. "Keldabe is growing more and more dangerous; the Caranthyr bombings only proved that. We need to stick together if any of our clans are going to make it through."

He slowly returned to his seat. "And… just what do you want from me in exchange?"

"Only the answers to some very simple questions." Reau leaned toward him, lowering her voice. "What is Shysa hiding down in those jungles? What isn't he telling the rest of us?"

Benz regarded her warily, seeing the fire in her eyes. Isabet Reau was dangerous, there was no denying that. But she was also his best chance of regaining the honor he and his clan had lost. And if dancing with the devil meant he'd get what he wanted… then maybe it was time to dance.

He smiled at her – a frosty, wary smile – then reached over and took another swig from his mug.

* * *

_To be continued in Star Wars: White Snow: Resurgence..._


	20. Next Time

_Next Time…_

A top-secret Imperial space station mysteriously cuts off communication with the outside world. Wary of the blackout, the locals send a team to investigate. The investigation team transmits only screams before also going dark. The Empire seeks to keep the situation a secret, but bounty hunters Cin Vhetin and Jay Moqena have been waiting for an occurrence just like this.

Tipped off by his contacts, Vhetin believes the station to be the new home of Project Whiteclaw, the organization that held him prisoner and submitted him to horrible biological tests. What they soon learn is that the project was shut down upon Vhetin's escape, to be replaced by a much more sinister organization.

Their first clue is the transmission itself, for only one clear word can be pulled from the investigation team's dying transmission:

Blackwing_._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: As usual, I do not claim to own anything from Star Wars that is not of my own creation. Star Wars and all related characters, locations, etc, belong to Lucasfilm and Disney.


	21. Off Duty: Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Off Duty" is a collection of shorts involving daily life among the Mandalorians. It focuses on moments of quiet, budding relationships, and important events that occur between the events and behind the scenes of larger adventures.
> 
> Without a home to fight for, fighting itself becomes pointless. And even in a galaxy as dangerous as this, wars are only half the story.

**_Oyu’baat _tapcaf, Keldabe**

“_Blue_!”

Tamai barely had time to react before she was all but tackled by a short but powerful woman in heavy red armor. She staggered back as the woman hugged her tightly, driving their helmets together with a sharp _crack_.

Tamai staggered back, ears ringing from the blow. As she recoiled, the red-armored woman hopped back and held her at arm’s length for study.

“_Osik_, you look good for a dead woman!”

Tamai cursed and pulled her helmet off, rubbing her forehead. “It’s nice to see you too, Janada.”

“It’s been _way_ too long since you’ve been in town, girl.” Janada followed suit, pulling her helmet off and clipping it to her belt. She was grinning almost from ear to ear. “What’s it been, five years?”

“Something like that.” Tamai couldn’t hold back a smile of her own at her friend’s enthusiasm. “It’s good to be back.”

“Just how did Stripes manage to convince you to trek this far north?”

Vhetin stepped up next to Tamai’s shoulder. “I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.”

Tamai nudged him in the ribs. “You wish. You’re not _that_ good in bed.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly and didn’t say more. Janada, meanwhile, threw her head back and laughed.

“Nice to see you’re still as prickly as always. Well, don’t just stand there like _di’kut’e _with your pants around your ankles. Sit down, sit down! I’ll get Aramis to bring some drinks around.”

She slapped her palm against the tabletop and called, “Aramis! Two mugs of your strongest stuff for the prodigal blonde over here!”

Aramis nodded, grim as always, and began pouring. Janada quickly turned back to the table and leaned forward excitedly.

“So how long are you in town, Blue?”

“A few months at least,” Tamai replied. “This counterterrorism training isn’t quick or easy. After that… I don’t know. Back to the frontier I guess.”

Janada’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the way Cin’s shoulders slumped in disappointment at the news. But – contrary to popular opinion – she knew when to keep her nose out of other people’s business. She let the motion pass for the moment and instead focused on the conversation at hand.

“So are the rumors true?” she asked. “Were you and Cin caught up in that mess down in the _Werda Kurs_?”

Tamai frowned at her. “Technically it’s classified.”

“Kriff that. I want to know the truth.”

“We were,” Vhetin said, wisely deciding it wasn’t worth arguing with her. “Our patrol found the Taung. More than that, we can’t say.”

“Fair enough. So what was it like? Fighting the ancestor race?”

Tamai scowled and hunched lower over the table. “Everyone’s rejoicing to see the Taung back. I just wish they’d stayed hidden.”

“Why?”

“My team…” the blond woman took a breath. “They were wiped out by a Taung attack. It was before we made peace. My friends were all slaughtered, probably with their hearts ripped out like the other prisoners.”

She looked up and held Janada’s gaze. “I’m not as opposed to the Taung as Norac Benz. I don’t want to kill them all or start some war between our people. But I definitely don’t think them moving back into Mandalorian society is a good idea. I just want them to go back to their jungles and disappear again.”

“Completely understandable. Without true _skira, _some wounds never heal completely.” Janada knew that better than most. She looked to her brother. “And what about you, _vod_? You want the Old Ones to scurry back into the trees and never show their mangy faces again?”

Vhetin hesitated, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. The Taung’s return can only strengthen both sides. With such powerful warriors returning to the forefront, maybe Keldabe will calm down. I don’t think a freak like Caranthyr would have tried to blow half the city to hell if he knew that there would be Taung coming after him.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “But that doesn’t mean I trust them. I saw them rip out the hearts of innocent, unarmed Mandalorians just because their _Mand’alor_ told them to. I know how dangerous they can be. We need them for now, but that doesn’t mean we should trust them”

Tamai nodded slowly. “A very practical viewpoint, I guess.”

“Well, enough of that,” Janada said, waving her hands as if shooing away such somber subject matter. “You’re _finally _back in town, Tamai. We should be celebrating!”

Tamai chuckled. “And just how do you propose we do that?”

“There are a few new dives in town that opened since you were last here. I could give you the grand tour! We could invite Jay and that Echani, too! We could make an entire night of it!”

The blonde grinned, but shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass. I’m due back at the Ranger outpost in a few hours and I’ll be expected at training first thing tomorrow morning.”

Janada narrowed her eyes. “Have you gone soft on me, Blue? You must have been gone longer than I thought if you’re suddenly jumping to follow the rules. When did you become a champion boot-licker?”

“I didn’t! I just… have responsibilities now.”

The way Tamai’s gaze shifted away made everything suddenly cluck into place. Janada instantly knew why Tamai was so hesitant to go out on the town. “Oh, I see... You’re afraid of running across a certain Coruscanti woman who also lives here. Right?”

Tamai shot her a sarcastic thumbs-up. Janada frowned at the two in front of her and rested her forearms on the table. “So does Brianna know about you two yet? I’m assuming no.”

Vhetin shook his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Not yet. I… haven’t gotten around to telling her.”

“Right. Might want to rectify that sooner than later. She’s got ears in this town, you know.”

“Why?” Tamai said, a definite edge to her voice. “Why should we tell her about our private affairs?”

“She and Stripes were together a long time, Blue,” Janada pointed out. “Long enough that subjects like marriage and kids were being thrown around. You really want her finding out about you two from a third party?”

“You… have a point,” Tamai grumbled.

“I’ll talk to her,” Vhetin assured them both. “I promise.”

“Good,” Janada said, comforted by the knowledge that the hotheaded Coruscanti huntress wouldn’t put a blaster bolt through her brother any time soon. “In the meantime, you have a place to stay, Blue? There’s always a cot open in my apartment. _Te Manda _knows Tranyc would love to see her favorite aunt again.”

Tamai smiled at the mention of Janada’s younger sister, but shook her head. “No, thanks. Cin’s already set me up at the bastion.”

“Oh really?” Janada raised her eyebrows. “You two are that cozy already? You move fast.”

“Side-effect of living in the jungle,” Tamai said, only blushing a little. “You have to seize your moments quick; you may not get more.”

“_Oya_ to that.”

Janada thanked Aramis as he finally brought them their drinks – Vhetin had respectfully passed, as he refused to remove his helmet in public. Once the grizzled bartender had moved on to the next table, she turned back to Tamai and cocked her head.

“I’m glad you’re back, Blue,” she said. “I missed you, all these years.”

“I’ll bet. What kind of trouble can you really get into without the _Mand’alor_’s niece at your side?”

“You’d be surprised, actually,” Vhetin said. “Jan’s been busy.”

The red-armored woman pointed a finger at Tamai. “And I expect to see you on the MandalMotors R-and-D floor within the next few days. That bullshit gear may be good for jungle slogs, but you’re in the big city now. I won’t have any sister of mine walking around looking like a half-melted pile of slag.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Tamai said, looking down at her battle-scared blue armor. “And I’m not your sister.”

Janada shrugged. “Only a matter of time before I wear you down and you finally let me adopt you. But I’m serious; I’m giving you a kit upgrade within the week.”

“Best to just give in,” Vhetin said. “She’s relentless.”

“All right, all right,” Tamai finally said. She shook her head with a laugh. “I’ll be in tomorrow afternoon for fitting measurements. Thanks for taking an interest.”

“You’re family,” Janada said simply. “And that means you dress in only the best. At the very least, you’ll actually add some color coordination to your gear. Cin keeps insisting on that dull black and gray.”

She feigned a gagging noise, while Vhetin sighed and muttered, “For the last time, I _like_ my color scheme.”

“But why won’t you at least _try_ the Bralor black-red?”

“Because my gear is fine the way it is!”

Tamai shook her head with a chuckle and leaned back in her chair. “Fierfek, I’ve missed the two of you.”

“And it’s damn good to have you back,” Janada said. She reached across the table and raised her mug in toast.

“To the gang getting back together,” she said.

Tamai raised her glass as well, while Vhetin chuckled and bowed his head in acknowledgement. Janada tipped her head back and downed half her mug in one go before slamming the cup down on the tabletop. Tamai followed her a few seconds later.

“All right,” Janada said. “Time to get serious.”

“All right,” Tamai said in a mock-serious tone, narrowing her eyes.

“I want all the dirt on Gracya. I heard the bitch cheated on you?”

Tamai rolled her eyes. “Oh, like you would not believe! It sounds like something from a bad holovids.”

“Then spill it, Blue! We haven’t got all night!”

  
  



	22. Off Duty: Frustration

**Vhetin’s bastion, Keldabe Forest**

“Son of a _bitch!”_

Vhetin’s voice was followed by a loud crash from the entryway. The resounding thud of something heavy hitting the ground confirmed that he’d thrown his helmet with all his considerable might. Tamai looked up from her workstation on the floor of the _karyai_ as he stormed into the room. His helmet was indeed missing and a furious scowl was plastered across his face.

She debated whether she should engage him when he was so obviously upset – particularly when he made straight for the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of _net’ra gal_. He pried the cap off with his gauntlet blade, his eyes so full of fire that it looked like he had just walked out of a gun battle.

She eventually decided to risk speaking up. “Umm… You do remember you can’t get drunk, right?”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he snarled, tipping his head back and downing half the bottle in one go.

“Bad day at work?”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “The worst. Just got passed up for _another _hunting contract by one of my informants. That makes five in the last week.”

“What’s going wrong?”

“The kriffers don’t trust me! Half found different private contractors during the three months I was held captive, while the _other_ half think I’m some kind of Imperial spy _posing_ as Cin Vhetin!”

He shook his head and finished off the second half of the bottle. Once finished, he tossed the bottle carelessly into the sink. “It’s insane. How am I supposed to keep my reputation clean if no one will kriffing _hire _me?”

“I’m sure they’ll come around,” she said as he threw himself onto the couch. “What about Jay? Does she have anything for you?”

“Not for me,” he sighed. He rubbed his eyes wearily. “She’s getting job offers left and right, but for solo missions. Specifically asking her to not bring a partner.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Ouch.”

“I’m sure she’d want you along if she could work it out.”

“I know,” he sighed. “It’s just… this is what I _do_, Tamai. And if I can’t do my job… what good am I?”

“Hey,” she said, moving up to the couch and putting an arm around his shoulders, “you’re still you, contracts or not. And even if your informants never trust you again, you can just find different people who will.”

“That’s easier said than done, Tamai.”

“I’m being serious. You’re more than your job, Cin. More than…” she gestured to his armor, “all of this. And just because you can’t hunt bounties doesn’t make you worthless.”

“A hunter who can’t hunt? That’s pretty much the definition of worthless.”

“Well you’re not. Not to _te mando’ade_…” she leaned closer and gave him a short kiss. “And not to me.”

He fell silent, mulling over her words. Eventually he just sighed and gestured to the messy collection of flimsiplast documents and datapads that littered the _karyai _floor. “What are you up to?”

“Counterterrorism training,” she said, moving back to her original place at the center of the mess. “You wouldn’t believe the homework. It’s like being back at the Academy.”

“What do they have you studying?”

“Right now? Mostly clan history. The actual combat training requires a more hands-on approach.”

He cocked his head. “What good does clan history do?”

“Well,” she said, trying to organize a stack of flimsiplast reports, “Tobbi Dala was seriously freaked out by Caranthyr and his bombers. He’s convinced that the next big terrorist threat is going to come from within. His theory is that if we can understand the various rivalries between the clans, we might get an idea of who’ll snap next.”

“He suspects the Death Watch?”

She hesitated. “In a manner, I guess. Caranthyr made a lot of boasts, but there’s nothing officially tying his attempted rebellion to any kind of resurgent Death Watch movement. At least not yet. It hasn’t stopped Dala from going off the deep end, though. He had us running drills all yesterday about how to properly and effectively engage fellow Mandalorians in hand-to-hand combat.”

“That’s a cheery subject.”

She hunched her shoulders and imitated Dala’s threatening growl. “The neck, underarms, ribs, and the back of the leg. Those are the armor’s weak points. Don’t forget ‘em, or you’ll regret it.”

She shook her head. “I know he’s basically Uncle Fenn’s brother and that makes him part of my family, but I just can’t stand him sometimes.”

“I think everyone in Keldabe shares that sentiment,” Vhetin said with a dry smile. “Shysa included.”

She shook her head and stared around at all the scattered documents and flashing datapads that surrounded her. “Do you…” she paused, hesitant to even broach the subject. “Do you really think there could be another attack?”

“I think it’s inevitable at this point. The terrorists didn’t manage to kill Shysa, but they got pretty damn close. We all walked away from that fight with plenty of bruises. Our enemies saw that clear as day.”

A sigh from her. “I was worried you were going to say that.”

“Why is it so upsetting? You’ve probably seen much worse fighting on the frontier.”

“That’s different,” she insisted. “That’s just… I don’t know, raiders and beasts. Maybe an overconfident foreigner from time to time. It’s nothing like this. Nothing like Mando fighting Mando.”

One of her datapads beeped, signaling that it had finished downloading the necessary curriculum. Scrolling across the screen were the ancient logs of Clan Kelborn – one of the many Clans on Tobbi Dala’s watch list.

“I guess,” she said, resting the pad in her lap, “I’ve seen enough dead _vode_ to last a lifetime. I just want the constant fighting to stop.”

She turned in her makeshift workstation and faced Vhetin. She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. “Do you ever feel that way too?”

A tired look darkened his pale blue eyes. “Every single day.”

“And… what would you do? If you didn’t _have_ to be a bounty hunter?”

“I honestly don’t know. Hunting is… well, it’s literally all I’ve ever known. I don’t know what use I’d be doing anything else. I guess maybe I’d be a farmer like Rame?”

She laughed. “You? Herding nerfs and planting crops? I don’t think so.”

He chuckled as well. “I guess it does seem pretty silly. But it’s the only plan I have. What about you?”

“Are you kidding?” she grinned mischievously at him and flipped her hair down over her eyes. Just like the fems on Coruscant were wearing it, apparently. “You can’t imagine this face gracing all the latest holomagazines? Think of it: _Tamai Vasser, superstar musician continues to astound! _Oh, Nar Shadda would just _love_ me.”

Another laugh from him. “I can think of worse fates. Just promise that if this whole bounty hunting thing doesn’t work out, I can land a job as one of your roadies.”

She grinned and straightened her hair. “Promise. You can even have a place on the speeder bus with me.”

“How generous.”

She turned back to her work. “Just think of it as incentive to stay with me and not run off with some other singer.”

“Run away from a voice like yours?” he scoffed. “The gods would strike me deaf on the spot for such a travesty.”

“Flatterer.”

He rose and headed off deeper into the bastion. At the doorway leading back to the kitchen, he paused and turned back to her.

“Tamai?”

“Hmm?”

He hesitated, staring at his boots. Then he held her gaze and said, “I’m glad you’re here. Not just with me, but… It’s good to have a friendly face during all of this. I’m happy you’re back, even if it is only temporary.”

“Me too, Stripes,” she said with a smile. After he disappeared down the hall, she turned back to her homework and the smile faded to a worried frown. “Me too…”

  
  



	23. Off Duty: Negotiations - Bralor and Kelborn

**Norg Bral, Mandalore**

The air whipped hard and cold around the scattered collection of half-domed buildings that made up Norg Bral. The ancient fortress seemed deserted, the turtle-like structures sprawling alone amid the seemingly endless snowfields that surrounded them. Dark clouds hung overhead, threatening to spill even more snow before the day’s end.

The frigid wind tossed a scarlet cape about as Clanmaster Sola’or Kelborn strode through the snow, toward the main entrance to the _yaim. _Her battle spear was clutched in one hand, held like a royal scepter. She had removed her mask and hood as a sign of respect, and the bitter northern air seeped into her skin and stung her cheeks. Her short black hair was tugged by the wind and she had to narrow her eyes against a spray of early snowflakes.

Two Mandalorians in blood-red armor flanked the doorway to the centermost and largest building. They looked half-frozen from the cold, but their weapons were still charged and held at the ready. Kelborn came to a halt in front of them and planted the butt of her spear in the snow at her feet.

“She’s expecting me,” was all she said.

One of the guards put a hand to his helmet-mounted comlink. After a few moments – and more than a few terse nods – he once again shouldered his rifle and gestured over his shoulder.

“She’s waiting for you.”

Kelborn grasped her weapon and moved into the building without another word. As she passed, she heard the two gate guards muttering, obviously believing she was out of earshot.

“That was really her? She’s… shorter than I imagined.”

“I’m surprised she actually came alone. You know the company she keeps. Untrustworthy folk.”

Kelborn scowled and ignored them. She was well aware of her current reputation, but could care less what her fellow Mandalorians thought of her. Everything she did – including her current meeting – was for the good of her clan. Everything else was a secondary concern.

More red-armored Mandalorians were waiting inside. They were dirty and haggard-looking; no doubt tired from the toils of subsistence farming this far north. Their armor was spattered with mud or dusted with a light coat of snow.

A few bowed their heads or nodded in greeting as she passed, showing respect for her rank as a Clanmaster. The majority of them, however gawked or gossiped as she made her way deeper into the bastion. She doubted a Kelborn had been seen this far north in a thousand years.

Only one had the courage to stop her. A woman, clad in red armor with stylized black highlights, stepped in front of her and blocked her path. She folded her arms across her chest and fixed her with a defiant glare.

“We don’t take kindly to southern visitors up here, Sola.”

Kelborn cocked her head. “I announced my arrival over an hour ago, Vhonte. Most wouldn’t show that kind of courtesy.”

“Why do you want to see my sister?”

“We have business to discuss.”

She heard the murmurs start again. Hisses of “_Kyr’tsad_,” or “_aru’etal.” _Like before, she ignored them – though not without effort.

She focused her attention on the woman in front of her. Despite her best efforts, she found her hard, determined expression softening. “It’s… good to see you again, Vhonte. It’s been a long time.”

Vhonte Tervho nodded, still looking grim. “Too long. But I don’t let just anyone see my sister on a whim, old friend or no.”

“Oh, stop fussing over me like I’m some fragile antique,” came a harsher, gravelly voice from further down the hall. “I’m not that old. Not yet.”

Kelborn craned her neck to see further into the bastion. Another woman was approaching, sporting armor nearly identical to Tervho’s. Her helmet was clipped to her belt, revealing stark white hair and a deeply lined face. She was walking with a cane, but Kelborn knew from personal experience that the woman could move just fine without it; also, the cane housed a concealed _beskar _shortsword.

Sola bowed her head in respect. “I greet you with respect and honor, Rav. It is a privilege to stand before you.”

Clanmaster Rav Bralor, leader of the ancient and powerful Bralor family, waved her wrinkled hand dismissively. “Let’s skip past all the ceremony and pleasantries, Sola. You’ve traveled too far for all the pomp and circumstance.”

Kelborn flexed her grip on her spear. “Very well. May we speak somewhere more private?”

Rav nodded in agreement. But as Kelborn moved to follow her down the hall, the old warrior added, “But Vhonte comes with me. Whatever you have to say to me, she can hear too.”

Kelborn’s jaw tightened, but she agreed. This was Bralor territory, after all. She would play by their rules for now.

Rav Bralor led them to a small room that was just off the main hall. After shooing away a knot of inquisitive children, the elderly woman settled herself into a chair at a small round table and offered the other to Sola.

Kelborn took the offered seat and leaned her spear against the wall next to her. Tervho took the wall next to the door and folded her arms expectantly. Rav shifted and settled more comfortably in her seat.

“Mistress Kelborn,” she sighed. “You’ve come a long way. The last time I saw you, you were just a lowly hunter. Now you sit before me, a full Clanmaster. Quite the success story you are.”

“It’s been over five years,” Sola said. “A lot can happen.”

“Hmm. So it can. But just because I’m a little behind doesn’t mean I’m in the dark.” Clanmaster Bralor leaned forward and folded her hands on the tabletop. “I know why you’re here.”

“Oh?”

Bralor nodded. “I got word from the other old _Cuy’val Dar _folks that’re still kicking. It seems you and your _burc’ya_, Isabet Reau, have been doing the rounds. Talking up all sorts of folk about joining your little militia.”

“I won’t apologize for the alliances I must make.” Kelborn mirrored her fellow Clanmaster’s stance, linking her hands together on the table. “What the Reau-Vizsla are doing is unprecedented, Rav. Four clans are now operating as a single familial unit, unfettered by petty jealousies and blood feuds.”

Tervho snorted, but said nothing. Kelborn glanced at her, shooting her a warning glare before continuing. “Isabet Reau is far from perfect. I’ll be the first one to line up and preach that. But she’s offering us a real shot at something incredible. Not just banding together to glare at the Imperials, but real inter-Clan cooperation. Lasting strength through interdependence. _Unity_.”

Rav raised an eyebrow. “Ambitious. But it’s not exactly like the Clans are at each other’s throats as it is. The Supercommando Codex keeps everyone in line.”

“The Codex is failing, Rav,” Kelborn said. “Or did you forget about Coro Caranthyr’s little rampage? You’re a fool if you think something like that won’t happen again.”

“Mind your place, Kelborn,” Tervho growled from the wall. “You may be a Clanmaster, but you’re in Bralor territory. Get a civil tongue in your head.”

Kelborn quickly bowed her head and backed down. “I meant no disrespect. But the gist of my statement is still true. The unrest in Keldabe is spreading; people don’t trust Shysa to stand up to the Imperials. They can’t do anything to change it, so they’re starting to take their aggression out on each other.”

“And Isabet Reau’s boat is safer?”

“Think about it,” Sola pressed. “Your people have suffered under the yoke of poverty for over a century. You live in the dirt, surviving off of subsistence farming while the bulk of your warriors flee Norg Bral at the earliest opportunity. For _te Manda’s_ sake, you don’t even _live_ here, Rav!”

“Your point?”

“The Bralors were once the shining jewel of the Mandalorian Clans; feared, respected warriors. And if you allied with the Reau-Vizsla Coalition, you could pull the Bralors _out _of this mire and back into those glory days. You could rebuild your Clan into something strong, a family that could last a thousand more years.”

“You’re starting with that high-and-mighty speech again, Sola,” Rav said, a note of dry humor in her voice. “Keep your words short, so us simple northern folk can understand.”

“Simply put, then,” Kelborn said. “Isabet Reau is well-deserving of the title of Queen Bitch. But she’s doing real good for her people and mine.”

She leaned back in her chair. “She could do the same for your people as well.”

Rav nodded slowly, rubbing her chin and pondering her words. Sola waited in silence, allowing the elderly Clanmaster to come to terms with the proposition. She traded several glances with Tervho, but didn’t speak.

Eventually, Rav clapped her palms against the tabletop. “Well here’s the way I see things. Your clan is still held in high esteem, and an alliance – even one of your fancy _unifications_ – would be far from a bad thing. A Bralor-Kelborn alliance would be the talk of the entire planet, and would strengthen both our families.”

A smile tugged at Sola’s lips. But Rav’s next words quickly robbed her satisfaction.

“But,” the Bralor Clanmaster continued, “I wouldn’t just be allying with you. I’d be allying with the Reaus, the Vizsla, the Priests, and – if rumor is to be trusted – the Berserkers as well. And those are alliances I’m not too hasty to jump to.”

Sola frowned and moved to speak again, but Rav wasn’t finished.

“Allying with your clan would do good. But if I allied with these others… members of my clan would have issues with that. A _lot _of members of my clan.”

“Janada’s head would probably explode at the mere thought,” Tervho said.

“There’s just too much bad blood between these clans. If the point of unification is to put an end to the fighting, that isn’t the way to go.”

“We aren’t the bad guys, Rav,” Sola pressed. “All of Keldabe could whisper _Kyr’tsad_. It wouldn’t make it any less of a lie.”

“I applaud your legendary dedication, Kelborn,” Rav said. “But the answer’s still no. I don’t give a damn about the _Kyr’tsad. _What I care about is the warriors under my charge keeping their guns holstered and their swords in the sheath. We have more important concerns: keeping people warm, fed, and protected.”

“I…” Kelborn scowled. ‘I can’t argue with your reasoning, much as I’d like to.”

She stood from the table. Reaching into the pouch on her belt, she pulled free her _beskar _battlemask and pulled the plate over her face. Once it was secure and the built-in HUD booted up, she pulled her scarlet cowl over her head. Within moments, her identity was fully concealed.

Rav also stood to bid her farewell. “I’m sorry I didn’t give the answer you wanted, Sola. But my decision is final.”

Sola nodded, her voice rasping through her helmet’s vocoder. “Your clan is the only one that will suffer from that decision, I’m afraid. But I will respect your decision and ensure that Isabet Reau will as well.”

Kelborn turned to leave, but Tervho’s words called her back.

“Is it true?” Vhonte asked. “Is the Reau-Vizsla Clan really looking to rebuild the Death Watch?”

Kelborn frowned behind her mask. She’d heard the same question posed time and time again. She was growing tired of answering it.

“Isabet Reau is many things,” she said. “She is arrogant and devious and dangerous, make no mistake. But she is no terrorist. You have my word.”

Rav smirked. “But is your word innocent or ignorant, I wonder? Reau’s reputation precedes her, as does yours. Make sure they don’t get too similar, Sola.”

“My reputation has been stained enough by our alliance,” Kelborn growled. She retrieved her spear from its resting place along the wall. “I don’t intend for it to be ruined any further.”

She bowed her head. “It’s been an honor, Clanmaster Bralor. Your presence would be welcome in the south.”

“If these old bones can survive the trip, you might yet see me down there,” Rav replied. “Farewell, Clanmaster Kelborn.”

With a swirl of her flowing cape, Kelborn turned and disappeared from the room. After she had gone, Tervho once again folded her arms and glanced to her sister.

“You think she was telling the truth? About Isabet Reau?”

Rav rubbed at her chin. “Sola’or is a good kid. I trust her to do what’s best for her clan. It’s possible she allied with the Reau-Vizsla out of simple necessity. If so, she wouldn’t care about Isabet Reau’s allegiances so long as her people were protected. And I doubt Reau would deign to tell her.”

“Ignorance then?”

“Born of desperation,” Rav said. “The Kelborns have been put through the grinder over the past decades. They have scars to rival our own, Vhonte. So far we’ve managed to escape the threat of clan-wide extinction. They weren’t so lucky.”

“I wonder, though,” Tervho murmured, “who Sola will want to recruit next.”

“Why?”

Tervho glanced to her sister. “Word is that Reau and Sola both went to Norac with the same recruitment speech.”

“And what was his answer?”

“No one knows yet,” Tervho said, shifting uneasily. “But it does raise the question: how many other clans will this new coalition bring to their side? We could stand to refuse them. Others aren’t in such a fortunate position.”

“You worry about them recruiting other less-than-savory figures?”

“The Kelborns are an honorable group and longtime allies of the Bralors,” Tervho said. “But what if Sola’s little speech sways the Koriithas or the Ash’amurs? We aren’t on such good terms with them. And if our worst fears are realized – if this whole thing comes to war – I’m not sure we can stand against them.”

“The Bralors have stood fast for over a thousand years. We’ve had our ups and downs, but we’ve always endured.”

“Nothing lasts forever, _vod_.”

Rav snorted. “You’re starting to sound like a Skirata. Are you going to get all broody on me too?”

“Not if I can help it. But I didn’t get this far by seeing the best in other people. I don’t intend to go soft now.”

Rav grinned and stood from her chair, leaning on her cane as she hobbled from the room. “There’s the sister I know and love.”

“So what do we do about Sola?”

“Like I said, she’s a good kid. But that doesn’t mean she’s our friend. Keep her at arm’s length, at least until we learn the caliber of Mandalorian that holds her leash.”


	24. Off Duty: The Pit

**_The Pit_, Keldabe Slums**

A name like _The Pit _didn’t conjure images of a clean and orderly establishment. A name like _The Pit _didn’t suggest a fancy restaurant or respectable trade shop. When the owners had named the dirty, misshapen downtown building, they’d had a very particular image of what they wanted to present to the world.

So when Jay stepped into the old duracrete warehouse that housed The Pit, she was unsurprised to find dirty floors, ominous flickering lights, and an assortment of Keldabe’s harshest and dirtiest citizens. Scattered through the chattering crowd were Gammoreans, Zabrak, and Nikto patrons, as well as the slimy Hutt that oversaw the entire operation. Serving droids raced across the viewing floor, carrying drinks in a wild variety of colors; none of which Jay cared to sample. Cheers echoed through the emptied warehouse, loud enough to rumble the floor beneath Jay’s feet, and the entire place was hot, stuffy, and smelly.

Fighting arenas were far from uncommon in Keldabe, but The Pit was the city’s seediest and most infamous. It catered to Keldabe’s dark side, feeding off of Mandalorian obsession with self-perfection through combat. While most fighting arenas in the city were sanctioned and supervised by either Mandalorian or Imperial overseers, The Pit was the exception. Rumor claimed that the owner had tossed the last supervisor into the arena against a starved and enraged Gundark. Tickets had never sold faster.

Fights to the death were commonplace, and law enforcement officers maintained a near-constant patrol through the nearby neighborhood. She’d heard bad stories about this place, whispered in darkened booths in the _Oyu’baat_. It was disappointing – not to mention frightening – to be present here now.

She fought her way through the crowd, past overexcited patrons who were jeering and shouting at the current fighters. The unruly patrons were thrusting their fists in the air, throwing back heavy mugs of _net’ra gal_, or shoving pouches of credit chips at nearby bookies. Twi’lek dancers twisted and shook their bodies on a catwalk above the arena, but the spotlights were focused on the arena at the moment; attractive women showing copious amounts of skin had not drawn the Mandos here tonight.

Jay finally pushed through to the front row, at the very edge of the combat arena. The arena itself was a sunken circle – formerly a grain storage pit, hence the place’s name. The raised stands constructed around The Pit offered spectators an unparalleled view of the battle taking place below, but an array of dusty, cracked holomonitors caught the action for anyone confined to the rearmost seats. She leaned against the handrail, brushing away the overly inquisitive trunk of an alien patron next to her, and watched as the fighters grappled on the fighting floor far below.

The first man – a human with a pale, battle-scarred body – was pushing his opponent back with sharp, efficient punches. He was stripped from the waist up, clad only in baggy pants and a thick black face mask that obscured his features. His torso was covered in bruises, cuts, and welts, but his many injuries didn’t seem to slow him down in the least.

The pale man’s movements were fast and brutal, yet carried a surprising kind of grace as he dodged, parried, and punched. His opponent, a larger Zabrak adorned with Huttese tattoos and a cybernetic eye, was faltering under the relentless flurry of fists and feet. He tried his best to dodge or parry, but his opponent was too quick.

The pale man darted forward and drove his knee into the bigger man’s gut, forcing his opponent to double over in pain. With his opponent hobbled, the pale man hopped back and held out his arm, beckoning for something.

One of the arena workers, standing near Jay on the spectator ring, threw him a long durasteel quarterstaff. The pale man easily plucked the weapon out of the air, spun it in his hands, and swung like a grav-ball batter. The quarterstaff connected against the big Zabrak’s jaw with an audible _crack_ and the red-skinned alien sprawled into the sand that covered the arena floor.

A roaring cheer went up through The Pit’s crowd. The arena announcer called something over the intercom in _Mando’a_. Jay couldn’t hear the words over the clamor.

The pale man tossed aside the quarterstaff and knelt next to his opponent. He wrapped a hand around the alien’s throat and drove his fist hard into his opponent’s forehead. The Zabrak, obviously unconscious, didn’t so much as flinch.

The pale man didn’t stop. He punched the alien again, then again and again. By the time the arena lights flashed red to signal his victory, his knuckles were stained with blood. Once he saw that he had won, he drew back to his feet and stalked off out of the arena. The crowd cheered as he left and some of the angry patrons threw drinks or food containers at him. He didn’t acknowledge any of them.

Jay saw her opening and moved to head downstairs. She knew the fighter’s quarters were down there, and she needed to speak to the victorious fighter. She flashed her ID to the bouncer guarding the stairs. He glared at her, but reluctantly let her pass.

The downstairs was almost as crowded as the upper floor. The cramped and dirty duracrete halls were packed with arena attendants, medical technicians, and pit fighters. Jay had to swerve to avoid medics carrying the unconscious Zabrak on a stretcher. The metal beam had shattered the right side of his jaw, his eyes were swelled shut, and three of his cranial horns had been snapped clean off. She grimaced at the man’s state, then quickly moved on.

It didn’t take long to find her quarry; a steady trail of fresh blood led from the arena door to one of the fighter’s quarters. She didn’t bother to knock to announcer her arrival; the door was already open.

The pale man was inside, his back turned to her. His mask was still in place, his body splattered with both human and alien blood and scattered with dark, purple-black bruises. Several deep slashes marred his shoulders, arms, and legs, spilling thick trails of blood down his body. His pants were as torn and dirty as any of Keldabe’s worst-looking hobos. He was still breathing, but how was a mystery. He looked like he’d been mauled by a rancor.

Jay folded her arms with a deep frown on her face. She watched the pale man unwind bloodstained fighter’s tape from around his knuckles and leaned against the doorframe in feigned nonchalance. Eventually she cleared her throat to draw his attention.

The pale man spun, fists raised and ready for another fight. When he saw her, a look of shock lit up his pale blue eyes. Then his shoulders slumped.

“I should have known someone would find me here,” he muttered. His voice was muffled only slightly by his face mask.

“Since when do you moonlight as a gladiator?” she said.

“Maybe I got a taste for it after the contract on Telos. I took on a Barabel and almost won. That’s an achievement if I’ve ever heard one.”

She scowled. “I’m not joking, Cin.”

“Neither am I. Why are you here?”

“I was worried about you. You’ve been missing for two days.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“It pays.”

She sighed and stepped into the room, eying her partner’s state. His knuckles were caked with blood and, from what she could see through his facemask, he had two black eyes. He looked like he could barely stand, let alone go another round in the pit.

She shook her head with an exasperated sigh. “You look like you’ve been fighting for days.”

“It doesn’t pay well.”

She grabbed his arm and moved him around to face her. “Come here. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He reluctantly allowed himself to be led toward a bench set along the wall. She grabbed a towel as she followed. Once he’d settled, she began wiping blood from his shoulders and arms. While she worked, she glared at him.

“You could have told someone what you were doing.”

“You would have told me not to do it,” he said. “Would have given me a job or donated credits out of pity.”

“When have I ever patronized you like that?”

He sighed and stared at his lap. “I… I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want any of you to find me.”

She stopped her ministrations and knelt in front of him. “Why are you here, Cin?”

He didn’t look up. “I needed something to do. I haven’t had a contract offer in weeks. I have decent credits in savings, but they won’t last forever.”

She shook her head. “There’s more to it than that and we both know it.”

“You’re right, as usual. I needed… needed _relief_. I needed to do something to keep my skills sharp. Something that would…”

She quickly caught on. “Something that would make you feel dangerous again.”

He nodded, eyes still shamefully fixed on his clasped hands. “Hard to feel like a failure when you’re beating someone’s face in.”

“You aren’t a failure, Cin.”

Those were the wrong words. He looked up at her now and fire bloomed in his eyes. “Don’t try to pull that on me, Jay. Tamai tried already and it didn’t work.”

He stood, yanking the towel from her hands and cleaning the blood from his chest himself. “You don’t know what it’s like, Jay. To be trained your whole life to do one thing, then be denied the ability to use your skills.”

He shook his head spitefully. “I’m a _bounty hunter_, Jay. It’s what I _do_. It’s all I know how to do.”

“I know—”

“So what do you think happens when someone with such a specific skill set is denied the ability to do what he was meant to do?”

“You can always—”

“No!” he suddenly shouted, throwing the towel to the ground. “I can’t just waddle off and do something else! I can’t take up painting like Brianna or start farming like Rame. I _hunt. _It’s what I was _made for_.”

He glared at her. “Imagine if you were a champion distance runner and your legs suddenly disappeared. Can you even picture that? To be robbed of purpose? To lose the _one thing_ you were good at?”

She sighed and took his place on the bench. “Cin… I’m sorry. I know you’re going through a rough time right now, but—”

“_Rough_ doesn’t begin to describe it,” he snarled. “Over the past few months, I’ve been kidnapped, experimented on, betrayed, manipulated, and now stripped of the one thing that gave me purpose.”

“I know,” she said. “It’s honestly a miracle you’re even here after going through so much. But—”

His shoulders slumped. “I… I don’t need help, Jay, and I don’t need your sympathy. I need a _target_. I need an _objective_. And as long as I’m here, fighting, I have that.”

He turned his back to her, unwilling to look her in the eyes. He looked dirty, exhausted, and hurt in more than just the physical sense. There was vulnerability written across his every movement, a fragileness that she’d never seen in her partner. Even after escaping the Facility, he’d been back on his feet and fighting within hours.

She’d never seen him like this, and it broke her heart to watch.

Her next words were slow and measured. “You’re… still having nightmares?”

He nodded. “Haven’t slept in four days.”

“Cin…”

“They’re getting worse. I’ve tried meditation, medication, and all kinds of other treatments. They just won’t _stop_.”

He returned to his earlier seat on the bench and cradled his head in his hands. “Every time I try to rest, every time I so much as close my eyes…”

“I assume that’s another reason you’re fighting here? To keep them away?”

“Adrenaline’s better than caf any day. Exercise too.”

She cocked her head. “What do you see when you dream? You’ve said you can’t sleep, but I don’t know why.”

He took a deep, shaky breath. “It’s… it’s not easy to talk about.”

It was obvious how uncomfortable it was for her partner to be thinking about this. She knew this was a touchy subject with him – perhaps the touchiest subject of all – and she needed to let him take his time talking. His body was stiff and tense and his hands were shaking until he clasped them tightly in his lap. He squeezed his eyes shut, then began, “The nightmares… they’re my first memories.”

“Your…” she paused. “I’m assuming this was after the, ah… _accident_?”

“A little. There are flashes of what happened before.”

She hesitated, then put a hand on his arm. “Tell me. I can try to help if you let me.”

He took another breath. “In the dream… I’m back in the ship. The one that crashed. Everything is… chaos. People screaming, storage crates flying everywhere. Someone – the pilot, maybe – is yelling over the ship intercom, but I can’t make out what he’s saying over the noise.”

He stared down at his hands. They were shaking dangerously, so he tightened them into fists that trembled just as badly. “There’s a woman in the seat next to me. My mother, maybe, I don’t know. She’s panicking like all the rest. She keeps trying to buckle the crash webbing over me, trying to protect me, but the turbulence is too much. She can’t secure it.”

Jay listened with rapt attention. She had never heard him go into such detail about any of this before. She squeezed his arm, urging him to continue.

He did continue, though it looked like every fiber of his body wanted to stop. His voice was little more than a choked whisper, almost lost amid the muffled roar of the arena crowd above their heads.

“There’s an explosion from somewhere in the ship,” he said, “and everything starts shaking apart. The bulkhead near my seat tears away. The woman tries to grab on to me, to keep me in the ship. But the wind yanks me out into the air.

“There’s this rushing sound, like being caught in a hurricane.” He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. “Then nothing.”

“That was when Rame and the others found you?”

He nodded, licking his dry and cut lips. “It, um… it wasn’t pretty. During the fall, I’d been impaled by three separate pieces of shrapnel.”

He pointed to several ropy scars that stretched across his chest and abdomen. “Here, here, and here. Two more on my legs. Rame had to… he had to use a blowtorch to cut the shrapnel away so the others could pull me free. I had been pinned under a piece of the bulkhead.”

Jay grimaced, but her partner wasn’t done yet. He pointed to a deep scar just below his collar. “I had a foot-long piece of metal embedded into the right atrium of my heart. Rame spent three days removing it.”

He now pointed to the back of his head. “And then there was the piece of transparisteel. Punched right through my skull, into my brain. It went straight through the parietal lobe and into the temporal lobe. Almost left me permanently brain damaged.”

“Could you put that in layman’s terms, please?” Jay said with a weak smile. “It’s been a while since my biology lessons at the Academy.”

“The speech, emotion, and memory centers of the brain,” he explained. “A good portion of both lobes were destroyed. Rame had to call in some favors from the Keldabe medcenter for that one.”

Jay shook her head. “How did you survive?”

“A mixture of Rame’s medicine, cybernetics, and old-fashioned luck. I heal faster than humans, so most of my brain managed to rebuild the damage before I went completely brain-dead. But Rame thinks that particular wound was what caused the…”

He sighed, shoulders going limp. “The amnesia. The reason I can’t remember anything that happened before.”

Jay sat with him in silence for a long time. Then she touched his arm again. “What happened next? The story doesn’t end there, I’m guessing.”

He shook his head. “I was a vegetable for almost six months after the crash. Permanently hooked to life support. Rame and Mia were beginning to wonder if I was ever going to wake up. The cybernetics they put into my brain fixed the worst of the damage, but I just wouldn’t wake up.”

“But you did,” she said. “You wouldn’t be sitting here otherwise.”

He nodded. “I woke up. But I wasn’t… wasn’t right.”

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head. “The first thing I remember… is this overwhelming feeling of fear. Primal, uncontrollable terror.”

He glanced at her, then quickly away again. These were obviously very painful memories. Jay didn’t push him and let him work his way through at his own pace.

“Do you know what it’s like?” he eventually said, his voice barely a whisper. “To wake up one morning and… and be afraid of _everything_? The bed, the window, the floor… your own reflection…”

He shook his head. “I started screaming early, and of course Rame and Brianna came running to investigate. I didn’t know what to do. Hell, I didn’t even know who they were. What they were. I didn’t even have a concept of what a human was, let alone if it was a threat or not.

“I attacked them. Fight or flight, you know? Only I also couldn’t remember how to walk. I didn’t succeed at doing anything but flopping around on the floor and screeching at them. They had to handcuff me to the bed to keep me from bashing myself against the door after they left. When that didn’t stop the screaming, they had to sedate me.”

Jay put a hand to her mouth. “Cin, that’s awful.”

He shrugged. “I grew out of it. Took months of training, but…”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Now it’s all coming back in my nightmares. The same fear. The same memories.”

They sat in silence, listening to the stamping and cheering of the pit crowd on the floor above. After a few moments, Jay reached over and clasped his hand with her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ll get through this,” she said. “You always do.”

“And if this is the exception?” he said. He didn’t release her hand. “These are more than just simple dreams, Jay. They can be fatal. If I get stuck too long in a particularly bad memory, my brain could be liquefied.”

“That won’t happen.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“No,” she agreed. “But I believe you’ll pull through.”

He snorted derisively. “Belief is like plastic food for a starving man. It looks good, but doesn’t help anything.”

“Hey,” she nudged his shoulder. “You want to get philosophical? I’ve got a story for you, then.”

“Do tell.”

“I used to have a commander when I was with the navy. Big guy. Former stormtrooper. He was a real hard-ass. Shouted all the time, always paraded around with all his medals pinned to his chest, forced us to power-wash the TIE fighters at 0300 in the morning. He was an over-the-top patriotic military man save for one thing: he was a devout believer in the Force.”

Vhetin glanced at her, obviously surprised. “That religion doesn’t get you far in the galaxy anymore.”

“I thought the same thing. But this guy was convinced – absolutely convinced – that the Force existed and influenced every aspect of our lives. That it had a plan for us and that all we had to do was listen and that plan would become apparent.”

He chuckled. “You’re starting to sound like the Handmaiden.”

“Let me finish,” she gently chided him. “So one day, my squadron came back from a convoy run that had been attacked by pirates. We rescued the convoy’s crew, but most of them were broken-down messes. They were traumatized by what the pirates had done.

“This commander was convinced that the Force had drawn the pirates to the convoy for a reason. That the Force had a plan for the convoy pilots, and that’s why they were attacked. Basically, that the Force had but them through an ordeal to make them something they wouldn’t otherwise be.”

“Small comfort for them.”

“It must have been,” Jay said. “The convoy pilots all applied for naval service within the week. After a month they were assigned as the region’s local TIE patrol, defending the trade routes they used to fly themselves. They managed to kill the same pirates that originally attacked them.”

She glanced to her partner. “I’ve never put much stock in the Force, but it was hard to ignore the commander’s beliefs. It seemed like more than simple chance. Like it was—”

“Destiny?” her partner supplied.

She nodded. “I can’t help but see similarities with your situation. These dreams started when you were trapped in the Whiteclaw Facility, right?”

He nodded.

“Then maybe that’s a clue. Maybe these dreams and the Whiteclaw experiments are related. Maybe they were triggered by what happened in that awful place.”

She squeezed his hand again. “We both know Whiteclaw didn’t go down in flames with the Facility. Maybe that’s where you need to start.”

“So you’re saying…” his pale blue eyes narrowed dangerously, “that if I track down Whiteclaw, the dreams will go away?”

“I’m saying that it might bring you closure.”

He fell silent for a time, pondering her words. After a few moments he stood from the bench and returned to his supply locker. He began winding tape back around his knuckles.

“I fight again in a few minutes,” he said. “Thanks for visiting, Jay. I’ll… think about what you’ve said.”

“You’re still fighting?”

“Have to pay the bills somehow,” he said. “But do me a favor? Send a call out to Tarron Matele. He’s been looking into Whiteclaw for me. If I’m going to do this, I’ll need his help.”

She nodded. “I’ll have him on comms by the end of the day.”

“_Vor’e_.” He half-turned back to her, his voice quiet and serious. “_Oya_, my friend. I’m… I’m glad you found me here.”

She smiled at him and stood from the bench. “_Oya, vod’ika_. Don’t get too comfy as a gladiator. You won’t be stuck here long.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”


	25. Off Duty: Greetings Master!

**Downtown Keldabe**

When Vhetin received an emergency comm message from Janada telling him to drop everything, grab Jay, and get to her apartment as quickly as possible, he instantly knew something was off. His sister wasn’t much for idle chatter or friendly get-togethers beyond her weekly Skyllian Poker game with other engineers from her work. And she was more than capable of handling herself in virtually every fight he could, so if she was calling for reinforcements now, something terrible must have happened.

Jay was obviously thinking along the same lines. When they met on the block outside Janada’s shabby apartment building, she already had her pistol drawn, charged, and loaded with tibanna cartridge. A concerned frown pulled at her features as she threw him a terse greeting, then jerked her head toward the stairs leading inside.

“What do you think happened?”

Vhetin shrugged, a deactivated lightsaber clutched tight in one hand. “Nothing good. My ever-loving sister has made a lot of enemies over the years. The list of things that could be wrong is pretty long by now.”

Jay frowned deeper as they began to make their way up the stairs and into the building. “What kind of enemies does a MandalMotors engineer make?”

“You have met this woman, right?” Vhetin scoffed at her. “She’s my kriffing sister and even I admit she has the personality of a pissed-off rancor monster.”

“You… have a point.” Jay drew her pistol into a tight two-handed grip, ready for anything.

The interior of the building was just as run down as the outside, as cluttered and beat-up as a nexu den. There was trash piled up in the corners and a dark stain on the carpet that Vhetin suspected was old and dried-up blood. The stairs were rickety and creaked loudly underfoot whenever he placed weight on them. It was a familiar sight by now, but Vhetin still wondered why his sister preferred to live in such squalor.

He jerked his head to his partner. “Take point. You’re lighter than I am. You’ll make less noise.”

She nodded and crept past him, her lighter frame and softer boots allowing her to traverse the staircase without making as much noise. Her pistol was aimed straight ahead, sweeping over the hallway in search of enemies. When they reached the second floor where Janada’s apartment was situated, she pressed herself against the corner and peeked around to watch the hallway beyond.

“It’s clear,” she breathed. “There don’t seem to be signs of a fight. And if Janada was really in trouble, she would definitely have left some damage in her wake.”

“Not if Tranyc was caught in the crossfire,” Vhetin said. Janada’s little sister was the center of her whole world. The engineer — as hotheaded and callous as she was — would die before she put Tranyc in danger. He scowled behind his helmet, his heart sinking more and more with each passing second. If something had happened to them…

“Move up,” Jay said, slinking to the other side of the hall. She stuck to the shadows, where her dark armorleather jacket helped her blend in with her surroundings. She was barely visible in the dim light of the shabby hallway, little more than a shadow against a shadow.

Vhetin approached at a more cautious pace, well aware that his heavy armor on the light and creaking wooden floor eliminated any chance for him to be stealthy. If it came to a fight, he would need to distract their opponents so Jay could ambush them from behind.

He raised his fist and ignited the lightsaber clasped in his hand, spilling sapphire light across the dirty hallway. The illumination revealed scrawled graffiti and scratch marks on the walls — the latter probably from a tenant’s overexcited strill. As Jay had reported earlier, there were no signs of a fight. Normally that would be a comfort. Now it just made him anxious.

Janada’s apartment was at the end of the hall, the door decorated with a poster bearing the Mandalorian Protectors insignia and a MandalMotors sign plastered haphazardly sideways beneath it. In the center of the door was the segmented diamond sigil of Clan Bralor.

“This is it,” Vhetin said. He flanked the doorway, holding his lightsaber close to his chest. Jay took the other side of the door, her wide eyes the only thing of her that was clearly visible in the darkness. He nodded to her, sending her a silent query as to her status. When she nodded back, signifying she was ready for the coming battle, he gritted his teeth and reached out to rap his knuckles against the door.

He didn’t get the chance to. The door handle rattled and the entryway swung open before his hand could fall. A half-second later Janada stuck her head through the doorway and looked up and down the hall. Her face was smeared with a dark film of oil and grease, but her eyes lit up when she saw the two hunters outside.

“Finally!” she said. “I thought I heard a _jetti’kad _crackle to life out here. Come in! Come in! Don’t bother wiping your boots.”

Vhetin frowned behind his helmet and slowly lowered his lightsaber. “You’re… you’re not in trouble?”

“With who?”

“Anyone?”

“I dunno.” The engineer shrugged, scratching at the _kyrbes _tattoo on her shoulder and leaving a dark smear of grease across her skin. “I try to always be in trouble with _someone _just as a matter of personal pride, but—”

“But you’re not under attack?” Jay interrupted, taking a step closer and glancing over the engineer’s shoulder, into her apartment. “No one’s trying to kill you?”

“Kriff, I hope not.” Janada narrowed her eyes. “Why? Did you hear something? Is Kavvon back in town? ‘Cause I told that no-good son of a—”

Jay glared at her. “Your comm message didn’t paint a very optimistic picture.”

“Oh that? I just wanted you two to get down here quick, and I couldn’t spend much time on comms.” Janada gestured for them to follow her inside. “C’mon. I’ll show you why.”

Vhetin narrowed his eyes and glanced at his partner, who just shrugged helplessly. His lightsaber deactivated with a hiss as Jay holstered her pistol, her frown not leaving her features. With a confused glance, the two moved to follow Janada inside.

The interior of the engineer’s apartment was just as messy and run down as the outside. But whereas the outside was bathed in a coat of filth and decay, Janada’s apartment displayed a charming, cluttered kind of chaos. There were stacks of engineering mags strewn across almost every available surface, a holoboard covered in complicated mathematical equations, and a string of thick cables and wires snaking across the floor like a mechanical echo snake. The kitchen was cluttered with equal parts dirty dishes and mechanical devices, and what had been the kitchen table was piled high with all manner of grease-stained parts and tools piled high in durasteel crates marked with Imperial insignias. The apartment windows were thrown open, letting brilliant shafts of morning light pour in and illuminate the clutter. Vhetin faintly heard the heavy, muffled beat of strap music playing from behind a door somewhere — Tranyc was home and safe, then. He breathed a sigh of relief.

The entire apartment had been rearranged since the last time Vhetin had visited. It had always been messy, but never with such organized purpose. Everything in the room was clustered around a large circular power platform in the middle of the _karyai_. This platform pulsed with pale blue light, releasing a dull buzz every time the lights flashed, and was connected to more of the thick bundles of cables and wiring that stretched off to some other part of the complex.

And standing on top of the platform, decorated with all manner of warning labels, disclaimer stickers, and bright splashes of red paint, was a droid.

It was currently powered down, slumped forward like a human that had just been hit upside the head. Its thin arms hung limp at its sides and a glowing power core, visible in the machine’s chest, was dim and unresponsive. The two eye-like photoreceptors on the droid’s head were dark, and a heavy restraining bolt was welded to its angular chest.

Vhetin stopped short at the sight of the droid, then sighed wearily and turned his gaze to the floor. “Oh no…”

Janada didn’t bother to turn to him, but she did point at him over her shoulder. “You shut up. I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”

“You dragged us down here for this hunk of junk? Let me guess, you think you fixed it again?”

“I _know _I did!” the short woman cried. “I was so stupid before, trying to reroute the power conduits up through the central spinal processing column. It overheated the whole _skarkla _machine before it could power itself on. Stupid mistake, I know. Not to mention the fact that I miscalculated the main core’s power output. The core I had wasn’t strong enough to power all the subsystems, which meant that—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jay held up a hand, cutting the engineer off. She gestured to the powered-down droid with a disbelieving scoff. “_This _is what you called us down here for?”

Janada nodded with a wide grin, positively beaming with excitement. “I _did _it! I finally kriffing _did _it!”

“Did what?”

She punched the droid’s metal shoulder, causing it to flail slightly before falling back into its original slumped-over position. “I finally managed to repair this bucket of bolts! I’ve been trying for five bloody years, girl! You know how much work I’ve put into this? But I finally did it!”

“Last time you thought you _did it_,” Vhetin said, making sarcastic air quotes as he spoke, “the thing exploded as soon as you turned it on. If memory serves, the detonation demolished this apartment, blasted you through the kriffing _wall, _and burned off your eyebrows and half your hair.”

Janada nudged Jay’s arm and muttered, “He only remembers ‘cause he had to pay the medical bills. Besides, I looked great with short hair.”

Jay took a step away from the droid, eying it up and down. “This thing really exploded?”

“It was a stupid mistake I fixed ages ago,” Janada said dismissively. She scooped up a hydrospanner and set to work tightening a plate along the droid’s chassis. “I underestimated the power this baby would need to switch on. Ran almost fourteen gigalotts of power through an unshielded central power column in the droid’s spine.”

“So… what happened? In Basic, please. I don’t speak Engineer.”

“I overloaded the core and accidentally turned the ‘bot into a miniature nuclear bomb.”

Jay’s eyebrows shot up. “A _nuke_?”

“A _mini-_nuke.” Janada tapped one ear. “Gotta learn to listen, Jay.”

The huntress quickly took another step away from the droid. “Just what is this thing? And why are you so desperate to fix it?”

“Technically, I’m not actually fixing it, so much as _building _it” Janada said, fiddling with something along the droid’s spine. There was a sharp _snap _and a flash of light from the rear of the machine’s thick chassis. “I built this baby all my own. Gathered up a bunch of parts from various models and popped them all together in my own custom build. You’ll notice the paint job matches my armor scheme. Personal touch, that.”

“But _why_?”

Janada emerged around the other side of the droid, tongue caught between her teeth as she pulled out a panel and rooted around inside. “You ever hear of the Czerka Corporation?”

Jay glanced at Vhetin, who sighed and shrugged helplessly. “No. No, I can’t say I have.”

“Hmph. Not surprised. They were a pretty big deal a couple thousand years ago. Back around the time of the Mandalorian Wars. Now they’re a minor weapons and armor contractor for the Empire. They produce some pretty decent projectile-based guns and vibroblades. Old timey stuff, you know?”

“But what does it have to do with this thing?”

“Well,” Janada continued as another shower of sparks flew from the droid’s torso, “during the Clone Wars, Czerka started to think bigger than small arms and armor. They wanted to recapture the glory days and go back to making big guns and serious hardware. The kind of stuff that could change the course of entire wars.

“You see, back during the Old Republic, Czerka used to be at the forefront of weapon and hardware innovation. Created a bunch of tech used by the Sith and the Mandalorians at the time. Tech that almost crippled the Republic.”

She peeked over the droid’s shoulder and patted the side of its head affectionately. “Tech like this guy.”

“This thing?” Jay echoed. Her tone was short and skeptical. “This thing is a weapon that could have crippled the Republic?”

“Well… no. Not exactly, at least. You see, Czerka had a lot of fun toys, but there was one line that they didn’t really market to the public sector. This tech was super-secret, very hush-hush. Only the wealthiest and most powerful underworld figures could buy this tech, and whenever someone did manage to get their hands on it, it always meant things were gonna get fun real quick. You know what I’m talking about, little bro?”

Vhetin folded his arms and leaned against the wall with a sigh. “The Hunter-Killer Assassin Droids. They’re an urban legend. A line of nearly indestructible battle droids, so dangerous and programmed so well that their specialty was hunting down and assassinating Jedi Masters and Sith Lords.”

“Exactly!”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “That’s… impressive.”

“Like I said,” Vhetin sighed, “it’s a myth. No one’s ever found one of these HKs, let alone reactivated them. Even Czerka doesn’t take credit for them anymore, and they were the ones who supposedly built the things.”

He gestured to the droid. “Besides, the Empire’s been improving Czerka designs for years with the new IG assassin models. No one cares about these antiques anymore. All those HK units — if they even existed — were probably scrapped for parts centuries ago.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Janada said with a smug grin. “You see, back when Tran and I were living on Sriiluur, I stumbled across this mechanic working with the Weequay. Used to be big with the Intergalactic Banking Clan before they went nuts and joined the Separatists.”

She hopped out from behind the droid and folded her arms across her chest. “This guy said that the Seps went to Czerka specifically while they were gearing up their droid army. Said they wanted the corporation to start producing HKs again. Good ones. Ones that could go toe-to-toe with Jedi and walk away with nary a lightsaber burn.”

“That’s a tall order.”

“And one that Czerka delivered on.” Janada’s grin grew — if possible — even wider. “You see, Czerka had recently been doing some mining work on Mustafar. And while they were digging through the lava pits and oceans of fire, they found something. Something that proceeded to chew through an entire army of Banking Clan mercenaries and B-Two Battle Droids.

“My contact said that Czerka managed to salvage what they could from the carnage and started producing a brand new line of battle droids, with the secret codename HK-77. They didn’t last long, of course, because a few months later the Seps lost the war and Darth Vader ended up killing ‘em all. The droids were scrapped, the dig site forgotten, and the Empire never bothered to hunt down the one that had killed so many people on Mustafar.”

“So…” Jay mulled over the engineer’s words. “If all that’s true, then what is this thing?”

“This,” Janada said, wiping her hands on her pant legs, “is a prototype. I built it myself, basing it on all the scraps of data I could find on the old HKs. I went way back, all the way to the old line of HK-50s, 60s, and the weird one Czerka called Prototype 47. I mirrored its construction as accurately as I could.”

“But _why_?”

“Why else? To keep me and mine safe. To ensure no one messes with the Keldabe branch of Bralors so long as its photoreceptors are functioning. Keldabe’s getting more and more dangerous, girl, or didn’t you notice? A combat-ready assassin droid could come in handy before too long.”

“I think,” Vhetin said softly from his position against the wall, “that building your own assassin droid to serve as your personal bodyguard is kind of overkill.”

Janada shot him a grin. “We’re _Mandalorians_, little bro. Overkill is kind of our thing.”

He had to grant her that one.

“But it still doesn’t matter,” he quickly pointed out. “Even if you got this bucket of bolts functioning again, it’s still just a husk. You’d need the processing matrix of one of the original droids for it to function correctly. And I doubt Czerka leaves those just lying around.”

Janada pointed to him with a happy laugh. “That’s exactly right. Now, normally I would say it’s a fool’s errand. Even if any processing matrices were still functional, they’d probably be collecting dust in some fat old Imperial’s private warehouse of Old Republic relics, right?”

“Right.”

Janada fished in her pocket for a moment, then produced a tiny black rectangle of durasteel, plastoid, and delicate electronics. She held it out to the two hunters, then shook it for emphasis with a smug, “_Ha!”_

“Is…” Vhetin frowned, for once taken aback. “Is that what I think it is?”

“This, my dear deluded little bro,” Janada said, cradling her hands around it as if it were a tiny, baby creature, “is the central processing matrix of an Old Republic-era HK assassin droid, from somewhere in the 50s line. I’ve been tinkering with it, making my own adjustments, and now it’s ready to install.”

“How did you get it?” Jay said incredulously. “Tech that old must be worth a fortune!”

“It is,” Janada said. “Up until about two weeks ago, it was safely locked away inside a Moff’s treasure vault. Now it’s mine.”

Vhetin narrowed his eyes behind his helmet. “And just how did you get it?”

Janada’s expression was one of perfect innocence. “Hmm?”

“Don’t play dumb, Janada. If this Moff had it locked up in a vault, how do you have it now?”

His sister, who was still staring reverently at the little square of circuitry, waved her hand dismissively. “Oh I saved up a few paychecks and hired the Echani to get it for me.”

“_Les_?” Jay said incredulously. “You asked Les to help you?”

“_Paid _her to help me. Big difference, Jay.”

“So you got her to steal it.”

Janada scoffed. “Well it wasn’t like the kriffing _Moff _was using it for anything important! You should have seen the state it was in when I got it! Dust in every crevice, the whole thing needed new soldering and de-rusting… It’s a miracle this little darling still works.”

“And now you’re going to put it in your droid,” Vhetin said, “and activate a centuries-old assassination program?”

“Of course not, dummy. I’m going to use its protocol functions. It can help me around the house.”

Jay’s mouth fell open. “You have _got_ to be joking.”

“Well I’m not just gonna have it sit around and wait for me to be attacked, stupid,” Janada said with a roll of her eyes. “If it’s gonna be hanging around, it might as well be of some use. Do the dishes once in a while, run a vac over the carpets, I dunno!”

She glared at the two hunters. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to bring our droid friend back to life.”

She reached up and pried a panel off the back of the droid’s head. With gentle, delicate movements that no doubt rivaled the motions of a trained surgeon, she reached up and slid the processing matrix into the droid’s housing. There was a _click_, then everything went silent. Janada hopped back, hands covering her mouth and eyes sparkling in excitement.

Nothing happened.

After a few long moments, Jay glanced at her partner. When he could do nothing but shrug, she looked back to the droid and waited a few more long, expectant moments. When still nothing happened, she glanced at him again and mouthed, _what’s wrong?_

The droid remained immobile.

Janada hurried around to the droid’s front, running her hands along is chassis and muttering to her self.

“No, no, no,” she hissed, double-checking rivets and armored power cables. She rapped her knuckles against the glowing power core — still dim and dull — and snapped, “Come _on! _I did everything right!”

Nothing.

“Come on!” Janada shouted. “I did _everything_ right! Any more accurate and I’d have been building you straight out of a kriffing _manual!”_

With a shout, the short woman reached up and punched the droid square in its blocky face, sending its neck stretching awkwardly off to one side. There was a creak from somewhere inside the housing and a burst of sparks danced from its neck. The power core remained dark.

Then, something miraculous happened.

The core flickered. The light flashed, almost too fast to see, then pulsed once with a powerful glow. Then again. The droid’s fingers twitched. A dull amber light warmed its angular photoreceptors. A dry, rusty creak sounded from somewhere deep in the droid’s chassis and the neck slowly straightened. The droid stood to its full height, no longer slumped over like a drunk man at the _Oyu’baat._

There was a dull buzz from its vocal capacitors. Then, with a low whine, its speech systems began to spin up. The droid began to talk.

“*_bzzt_* D-d-dec… Declara_-a-a…_”

The droid twitched again. Then something big exploded and sparks flew through the air. Jay hopped back, shielding her face from the flash as smoke filled the room. Vhetin grimaced and waved a hand in front of him, setting his helmet’s scanners to maximum to cut through the acrid smog.

Two angular photorceptors suddenly sprang to life with a malevolent hum, glowing through the thick smoke with a baleful amber glow. There was another quick buzz, then the droid spoke clearly and legibly for the first time.

“Declaration: something does *_bzzt_* not feel right. My chassis is not responding to commands.”

Janada coughed as the smoke finally began to clear. “Oh, right. The restraining bolt.”

She darted forward with a welder, striking hard and fast as if she were in combat. One stab and a flash of sparks of later, the droid twitched and buzzed again. It suddenly went limp, like power had died, then straighted and flexed its arms.

“Ahh,” it said with a very human-sounding sigh. “That is _much _better.”

The photorceptors wandered up to look at the three humans standing before it. Then it twitched slightly and said, “Confusion: This is very different from my last recorded memory report. Accessing memory banks and programming signals. Running preliminary diagnostics…”

There was a deep buzz as the droid stared off into space. Then it twitched one final time and turned back to them. It looked at Janada in particular, then held one hand before its “stomach” and bowed at the waist.

“Diagnostics complete. Greeting: Hello, Master! I am HK Two-hundred and twenty-two, assassin droid, and personal assistant to Janada Umaan Bralor. I am programmed to encourage etiquette, protocol, and interspecies relations, and am fluent in over eight million forms of communication including but not limited to Basic, Huttese, Rodese, Twi’leki, Shriiwook…”

“A protocol droid?” Jay said under her breath. “I think Janada might have mixed up her processing cards.”

The droid clearly heard her. It instantly trailed off from its list of functions, straightened, and linked its metallic hands behind its back. Vhetin couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw the light in its photoreceptors pulse angrily.

“Clarification,” the droid said. “I have extensive programming in etiquette and protocol, meant to facilitate infiltration missions and covert analysis of enemy targets. However, my primary function has always been the enactment of advanced assassination techniques, covert infiltrations, and the premeditated slaughter of offensive fleshy meatbags like yourself. I am also skilled in the art of… cooking?”

Another twitch and a confused spray of sparks.

Jay took a step back, eyes wide at the threat buried in the cheerful robotic tone. “Right… Janada, _please _don’t tell me you’re going to give that thing a gun.”

It shook its head, the motion accompanied by a whir of buzzing servomotors. “Apology: it seems my central programming unit has been heavily modified since it was last accessed. And my internal chronometer reports high levels of data corruption since my last activation some fifteen hundred years ago. I will devote more processing power to returning to full operational status.”

It bowed again, this time directing the motion specifically toward Janada. “Reassurance: I will nevertheless serve you with the utmost loyalty and discretion, Master. It is a very great pleasure to meet you!”

Janada clapped her hands in delight. “_Ori’kandosii!_ I _knew _it was the power core! All I had to do was find one with a big enough output signature!”

HK turned to her and cocked its head to one side. “Interrogative: Am I to understand that you are responsible for my reactivation, Mistress Bralor?”

The engineer nodded proudly. “Built you from scratch, buddy. And boy was it worth every credit.”

The droid slowly looked down to survey its new black-red chassis, holding out both arms and slowly clenching its hands into fists. When it spoke again, something akin to wonder had invaded its vocal processors.

“This work is… superb! I have never encountered such a well-designed chassis before. At least not one created by the inefficient, stubby little hands of a human meatbag!”

Jay frowned. “What about your original body? Your original creators?”

“Clarification: My original place of creation was in a secret Czerka laboratory. I was designed, created, and programmed by droidfellows. There were no squishy organic parts to — how do you humans say it — _gum up the works. _Any assassin droid worthy of note is constructed in such a way. You meatbags lack the… _elegance _to create a perfect engine of carnage and destruction such as myself._”_

Jay let out a long breath. “So it’s homicidal _and _an asshole. You should get along fine, Janada.”

“I _know_, right?! This is the best day _ever_!”

Janada looked over her shoulder and shouted, “Tran! Tran, get out here quick! Come meet your new uncle!”

“_Slana’pir, shebs’kov!” _came the muffled response from behind Tranyc’s door.

Janada turned back, still grinning that seemingly unstoppable grin. “She’ll warm up to it eventually.”

“Query: If my Mistress wishes for a third party to join us,” the HK said, “I could easily blast down the door and drag them into your presence. Permission to set prejudice to maximum?”

“As fun as that would be to watch,” Janada said, tapping her chin, “I’m gonna pass.”

She clapped her hands. “Kriff, I can’t wait to get all this software updated and see just what our friend really has cooking under the hood. Oh, but before I do…”

She waved her hands until the HK unit swiveled to face her once more.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Janada said, speaking slowly as if to a small child. “You are not to kill anyone in this room. Under no circumstances are you to harm myself, my sister, or Cin and Jay. Understand?”

“Disappointed Acknowledgment: I understand, Mistress. No one beneath this roof will come to harm so long as I am active. Droid’s honor.”

“Good. Now apologize to Jay for threatening to kill her earlier.”

The HK obediently shuffled around to face Jay and hung its head in shame — or at least as near as a droid could get to real shame.

“Morose Declaration: I apologize for threatening to kill the skinny meatbag.”

It straightened and turned back to Janada with a whir of servomotors. “Was that sufficient?”

The engineer was still watching expectantly. “…and? Was there anything else you wanted to add?”

The droid was still, processing for a few moments. Then it twitched and said, “Oh!”

It turned back to Jay and folded its hands in front of itself, leaning forward like a doting grandmother.

“Blatant Lie: It will not happen again.”

Vhetin burst out laughing while Jay turned away and put a hand to her forehead. “I must be dreaming,” she murmured. “I must be. There is no way in hell that she’s got something like this at her disposal. Cin, you do realize that we’re both going to be dead before the end of the week, right?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Janada said with an admonishing frown at the other woman. “But it _does _mean that you two aren’t going to be skipping out on poker night any more. Isn’t that right, HK?”

The lanky black-red droid nodded with a buzz. “I am programmed to facilitate my Mistress’ every demand. If she wishes for more meatbags to be present at social gatherings, it is my duty to ensure they attend. Query: Must they still be breathing when they arrive, or are respiratory functions a low-priority variable?”

Vhetin and Jay groaned in unison. Meanwhile, Janada took her droid’s arm and led it out of the room.

“Come on, Triple-Two,” she said with a grin. “Let’s find a HoloNet relay and hook you in for an update. We have a lot to catch you up on.”


	26. Off Duty: A Matter of Trust

**Offices of the _Mand’alor_, MandalMotors Complex**

Someone had been shouting outside for the last five minutes. The muffled roar of angry voices was muffled behind several heavy blast doors, but were still clearly audible. Such occurrences were far from uncommon these days, so _Mand’alor _Fenn Shysa didn’t pay it any mind. He glanced up from time to time when he managed to pick out the odd word — a _di’kut_ here or a _chakaar_ there — then sniffed and returned to his paperwork.

It was only when blaster shots snapped in the antechamber that he truly took interest. His trusty longsword was well within reach, but he didn’t make a grab for it. He just set aside his stylus and folded his hands over his belt, waiting expectantly for his overeager visitor to present himself. A fight that rowdy could only mean someone wanted to speak to him.

_Nothin’ like a nice, civilized discussion_, he thought. _‘Specially this early in the morn._

Seconds later the blast doors sheathed open and Norac Benz stalked through in a storm of beads, leather, and bad attitude. His armor’s chest plates were smoking in three different places, but he didn’t look remotely wounded. Tobbi Dala was right behind, holding the smoking pistol that had no doubt loosed the offending shots. He had a freshly-forming bruise on one eye and a bloody nose.

“You,” Norac grunted, coming to a halt in front of Shysa’s desk. He tucked his thumbs into his belt. A scowl pulled at his features, his ice-blue eyes narrowed to slits. “I need to talk to you.”

Dala stopped just behind him and trained his pistol on the back of Benz’s head. “You take one step further and I’ll drop you where you stand, Berserker.”

Shysa gestured to his deputy. His voice was as calm as it always was. “Stand down, Tobbi. If Clanmaster Benz here wants t’make trouble, I’m sure I can handle it.”

He folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “Besides,” he said calmly. “He’s already in enough bloody trouble. Not wise to go lookin’ for more.”

“I’m not here to make trouble,” Benz growled. His tone suggested otherwise. “I’m here to give you my demands.”

A single eyebrow quirked up. “That so? An’ just what’re you demandin’?”

“Restoration,” Benz threw himself into one of the chairs opposite Shysa’s desk without ceremony, settling himself spread-eagled with his hands folded over his belt buckle. “I want my clan’s rights restored.”

“Admirable,” Shysa said. “But why would I wanna do that? I took those rights for a reason, lad. A _very _good reason. You disobeyed a direct order from _te Mand’alor_. You broke the Codex an’ broke the _Resol’nare_. It’s only ‘cause I like you that I didn’t kill you on the spot.”

“Far as I’m concerned,” Dala grumbled, “you and your ilk are no better than the Death Watch.”

Norac spat, pointedly ignoring the bald-head deputy. “I’ve never recognized your rule, Shysa. Or the rule of the Codex for that matter. That’s the whole reason I took my people into the mountains in the first place; to get away from the goody-goody toadies you call followers.”

“Insulting your Mandalore is not a good way to argue your case, Benz,” Dala said. He hadn’t holstered his pistol. “State your business or get out.”

Benz moved to put his feet up on the desk, then seemed to think better of it. He instead cocked himself to one side and threw one leg over the armrest of his chair. “I… admit that recent events have stressed my temper. I made decisions that… I probably shouldn’t have. Stupid decisions. Decisions that got people killed.”

His eyes held Shysa’s with a desperate insistence. Shysa found himself unable to look away, forced to hear out the scruffy frontiersman.

“I’m a proud _Mando’ad_, Fenn,” Benz said. “And it takes a lot for me to admit when I’m wrong. You of all people can sympathize with that, I’m sure. You’ve made a lot of tough decisions during your years in office. Yet you haven’t apologized for them. Not once.”

“Aye,” Shysa honestly admitted. “An’ I’m impressed by your candor. Truly. But you still haven’t told me why I should restore yer Clan’s honor.”

“I know something,” Benz growled. “Something that’ll be worth a lot to you.”

“Mighty sure of yourself,” Dala said. His pistol still hadn’t lowered, despite the order for him to stand down.

Shysa, however, didn’t interrupt. He just stared intently, leaning forward and folding his hands under his chin. There was something in Norac’s voice, a strong sense of certainty that he didn’t like. Whatever it was the Clanmaster knew, he also knew it was important.

Unsurprisingly, Benz ignored Dala’s quips. He held Shysa’s gaze, intent on getting his point across. When Shysa gestured for him to continue, he cocked his head and grunted, “I had a visitor not long ago. A mutual friend of ours. Isabet Reau.”

The Clanmaster’s words made even Dala fall silent. The deputy ever-so-slowly holstered his weapon and folded his arms, listening intently. Benz glanced at him with a small, triumphant smirk before continuing his tale.

“She and Sola Kelborn managed to track me down a few weeks after I returned from the jungles. Had a very interesting proposition for me. Fancy talk about _alliances_ and _unification_.”

Shysa nodded. “I’ve heard similar reports. Kelborn jus’ got back from givin’ the Bralors the same talk. The two have been recruitin’ all over the continent, to little apparent avail. What makes yer talk so special?”

“Because they didn’t offer their help for free. They suggested a trade: information for alliance. Said they would push to have my clan reinstated. A full pardon for everything that happened down in the _Werda Kurs._”

He narrowed his eyes. “We both know what information she wanted.”

“The Basilisks,” Shysa sighed. He sat back in his chair and stroked his chin with a quiet, weary curse. “Of course… Isabet wants to know what has us so interested in the jungles. Can’t say as I’m surprised. What’d you tell her?”

“Nothing,” Benz replied. “Not yet. Isabet claimed that with the Reau-Vizsla supporting me I could make a push for Clan restoration. Her argument was intriguing, but not convincing. I told her I’d think on it.”

“And then you came to me,” Shysa said with a wry smile, “hoping I could make you a better offer.”

“Smarter than you look, _Mand’alor._” Benz cocked his head. “Way I figure it, I’ve brought you valuable information. Potentially Shysa-saving information. That warrants a reward of the same value.”

Shysa glanced to his deputy. The ever-scowling Dala shook his head, obviously unimpressed with the offer. But Fenn wasn’t discounting the information just yet. He gestured to Benz with two fingers, a curious frown on his chiseled face.

“So you think that by tellin’ me Isabet’s after state secrets, I’ll restore your Clan o’ rebels to a place of honor?” He shook his head. “Sorry lad, but that’s just not enough t’barter with. If I’m gonna restore your clan, I’m gonna need more’n that.”

Benz scowled darkly and both his hands clenched into tight fists. “_More_? I just brought you intel that a woman on your high-and-mightiest watchlist wants your toys. And you want _more_?”

“More,” Shysa repeated forcefully. “The fact is, lad, that you and yours are dangerous. Potentially just as dangerous as our mutual friend Isabet. Your lack of respect for your own people is something I won’t tolerate any longer.”

Benz narrowed his cold eyes, but said nothing.

“So I want a promise,” Shysa continued. “Swear on the Force, on _te Manda, _or on the Old Gods. Whatever you want, I don’t care. But I want you to swear that you’ll declare formal support and dedication to _te Mand’alor_ from this point on. No more renegade adventures. No more livin’ on your own in the jungles. Commit yourself to unity with your _vode_ and your clan will have its honor back.”

Benz scowled deeper. “So you want me to choose between an alliance with you or an alliance with Reau and Kelborn?”

“Basically.”

“Why the hell would I want to do that? I’m lookin’ to put my people back in their rightful place, not pick sides in whatever scrap you’re all gearing up for.”

“You’re mistaken,” Shysa said. “I’m tryin’ to _prevent _a scrap. I can’t speak fer Reau or her new Kelborn buddies, but I’m pretty sure we’re the good guys in this scenario.”

Benz sniffed, rubbing at the tangle of stubble on his chin. “I don’t like this. Any of it.”

“Then you’re gonna like what comes next even less.” Shysa sat back and put his own feet up on his desk, mirroring the motion Benz had decided against earlier. “’Cause I’m not done. I want you to show more loyalty to your people, but I don’t want you to do it in public. Keep scowlin’ and growlin’ as much as you want. Stay up in the mountains and only come out when the Protectors get up and runnin’. Live as you want to live.

“But before that happens,” the towheaded man continued, “I want you to go back to our Isabet. And accept her offer.”

“What?” Benz said.

“_What_?” Dala echoed.

“You heard,” Shysa said. “I want you to accept Reau’s proposal. Tell her about the Basilisks. Join the Coalition. Serve them as loyally or disloyally as you wish.”

Benz’s eyes slowly widened as understanding dawned. “You want a man on the inside. A mole, peeping in on Isabet’s plans.”

“There’s only so much a man can learn by watchin’ from the outside,” Shysa said. “No matter how carefully he watches. I want you to join her alliance and report to me on her actions. I wanna know her dealings, her allies, and — most importantly — her plans. I know she’s behind the risin’ tide of discontent that’s been sweepin’ through Keldabe an’ I need plans in place in case she decides to pull somethin’. We don’ need another Caranthyr runnin’ about and claimin’ to spearhead a new Death Watch movement.”

“I could give two shits about the Death Watch,” Benz rasped, “or the True Mandalorians. Gave up on ‘em both almost two decades ago. Why should I play sides in your little dejarik game now?”

“Because you’re a shit liar. Because you _do _care. You wouldn’t have kriffed things up so royally in the jungle otherwise. You love yer people as much as the next Mando. An’ you know, deep down, that your interests and the interests of Isabet Reau and her Coalition are not compatible. Whatever she has planned for this nation, it’s not good for you, me, or anyone else. Death Watch never is.”

“My concerns lie a long way away from your shithole of a city, Shysa.” Benz’s voice was harsh and uncompromising. He was stubborn, and it was a trait Shysa both respected and abhorred. “Life up in the mountains is mighty different than this cushy city living. We care about defending our borders from the kalo wolves, clearing land and lumber for farmland, and making damn sure none of you sanctimonious pricks rope us into your war of ideology; a war, might I add, that’s claimed the lives of more Mandos than any conflict in the last millennium.”

He leaned closer. “I don’t care about you, Fenn. You can pretend I do all you like. But I don’t care about you, your thug of a deputy, your _ori’utreekov_ followers or the shits that sneak around in the shadows opposing them. My concerns lie with _my _people. _My _clan._ My _followers. And if you want me to betray their interests in favor of yours, you’re sadly mistaken.”

He stood from his chair and adjusted the long coat that was draped over his armor. “This may come as a shock to you, _Mandalore_, but I’m a warrior. And sneaking around playing double agent for _any _faction ain’t my way. So if the best you can offer in return for my services is a job as your chief lapdog, then you can go fuck yourself.”

He turned and stalked past Dala. He paused at the deputy’s side, leaning close and hissing, “And you can go fuck yourself too.”

Shysa let him go, watching intently and not bothering to rise from his desk. It was only when the leather-clad man reached the door that he spoke.

“You want more?” he called. “I can give you more.”

Benz stopped. He didn’t turn around. Shysa took that as leave to continue. He leaned forward and folded his hands, watching the back of Norac’s head intently.

“I can give you more,” Shysa continued. “You say you want to protect your people. Make ‘em less reliant on us city folk. I can make that happen.”

Benz’s head tilted ever-so-slightly back toward him. “How?”

“One word: Basilisks.”

The Berserker Clanmaster finally turned, head cocked to a curious angle. “We have Basilisks. Salvaged them from the forests, just like your men take them from the jungle.”

Shysa let out a dismissive snort and waved a hand. “A bunch of shoddy, rag-tag hunks of junk that can barely serve as tractors, let alone war droids. Tell me, have you managed to get them to walk yet? Or are you still strugglin’ to turn on their photoreceptors?”

“Mind your own business.” The terse note in his voice suggested it was a sensitive subject. “Point is, we got ‘em. Don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity,” Shysa said. “When we get our jungle Basilisks online, we won’t be able to parade ‘em around the streets. We’ll need to use ‘em covertly, out of sight of Reau, the Imperials, or any other unfriendly eyes that may be watchin’. That means all the trustworthy folk are out of the runnin’.”

He cocked his head. “You and yours are proud folk and good soldiers. And I’d feel much safer puttin’ those droids in the hands of Mandos who could use ‘em to their full potential and get away with it.”

Benz’s frown deepened. “You want to put me in charge of those things? After everything I’ve done?”

“I might,” Shysa said. “Maybe. If you take the deal and work as my main man inside the Coalition. Consider your service with Isabet Reau an audition. Stay under her radar and prove you can maneuver without drawing attention to yourself and those Basilisks will be yours — so long as they remain in service to _te Mand’alor, _of course.”

Benz narrowed his eyes, then glanced at Dala as if looking for confirmation that it was all a trick. Then he slowly took a step back into the room. Then another. A few more, and he cautiously slid into the seat across from Shysa once more.

“Keep talking.”

~~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, as the door slammed shut, Dala turned to Shysa and folded his gauntleted arms across his chest. His craggy face was scowling deeper than usual.

“You sure this is a good idea?” the deputy growled. “Benz is dangerous. Maybe just as dangerous as Reau and her ilk. Giving him basilisk droids is a _kriff_-up in the making.”

“I know exactly how dangerous Norac Benz is,” Shysa replied, returning to his paperwork. “That’s why I made him this deal. The damage he could do to Reau and her Coalition is a boon we can’t afford to overlook.”

“He’ll turn against you. And armed with basilisks if you get your way.”

“Benz knows his clan faces annihilation if he tries,” Shysa said with a smile. “The majority of _Mando’ade _planet wide still live according to the Codex. And you can’t rise up in rebellion against Mandalore — and therefore the Codex — with no consequences. If he tries, he risks a civil war just as devastating as the war with the Death Watch.”

Dala’s voice carried a tone of disbelief. “You think you can trust him to play nice? To take a veritable army’s worth of war droids and play by your rules?”

“Ol’ Tobbi,” Shysa said with a chuckle. “Norac Benz is cut from a different cloth than you or me. He’s an old-fashioned Mando. Had he been born during the Old Republic, he would have made a damn good Neo-Crusader. That’s not necessarily a compliment.”

“Then why are you following this crazy plan?”

“Because it also means,” Shysa said, “that when it comes to basilisks, there’s no one I trust more.”


End file.
